


Lifeline

by unicornwarrior



Series: Monsters [1]
Category: Of Mice & Men (Band)
Genre: Domestic Violence, M/M, possible triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:25:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornwarrior/pseuds/unicornwarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alan doesn't want the idiotically familiar feeling of pain to subside, ever. He doesn't want to get out of his cage, he doesn't want to leave the prison that he built for himself, doesn't want to see what the outside world bears. He's forced to deal with it, however, when a strange, lanky man turns up on his doorstep one day, claiming to be his new neighbor.<br/>The man - Austin Carlile, as he later finds out - has an unsatisfiable need for change. He starts shaking Alan's life up bit by bit, until everything turns to shit.<br/>It turns to shit, and Alan loves it.<br/>The question remains, though:<br/>Will Austin be Alan's lifeline, his reason to drag himself out of the hole he's been digging himself into, or will he be his biggest downfall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 'Maybe' And 'Someday' Are Words You Should Avoid At All Costs

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> If anyone wondered where I was, I was ridiculously busy trying to work out my next story, which will probably be delayed until the end of everything (don't hit me), but I'm getting there. I just don't want to push it.  
> Therefore, to somehow make up for the long wait, I have decided to sift through my older stories and give you one that I am actually quite fond of.  
> This piece of fiction is called 'Lifeline', and it's basically...really, really sad.  
> But it gets better.  
> This is not really a rewrite, I've just changed it up a little, mostly language-wise because my vocabulary has improved since I first wrote it about a year ago. If anyone wants to find the originial, it's on Mibba, but I'm not sure if you can put links in the notes here.  
> However, I want to inform everyone who has read Ode to the Selfish that a new Joshler is coming up, and it'll be done by the end of August if I hurry.  
> I hope you enjoy this story until then and I will quit rambling now - I'm really sorry.  
> Have a lovely day!  
> I love you all,  
> M

Another punch. 

Another bruise. 

Another scar. 

Another part of my body to hide behind a long-sleeved sweatshirt later. 

I didn’t know how much longer I could take this. The pain was shooting up and down my wrist; maybe it was broken, maybe not. It didn’t even matter anymore. 

Maybe someday, this was all going to end. Maybe it was going to end with a blade burying itself into my wrist and the red cascades of blood blossoming all over my skin, tainting it red. Maybe it was going to end with a day when the beating of the Monster would be taken too far and I would at least cease to be, writhing on the floor and screaming from the top of my lungs as if hell itself was chasing me, begging for all Gods that exist to relieve me of my suffering; and the Gods would finally comply. 

Or, maybe, it was going to end, someday, if I got out of here. A fairytale ending, a knight in shining armor coming to save me – and succeeding. Finally freeing me of the evil that surrounded be during both day and night. 

I didn’t let myself truly believe in that, though – It wouldn’t ease my pain to have my fake hopes bashed into a million shards and dumped on my already torn and disfigured skin; skin that was littered with bruises and horrible wounds. 

It was better to stay grounded. Healthier. More honest. 

Comforting. 

Almost. 

The volume of the insults and screams being thrown at me increased, filling the room up to the brim and worsening the physical pain impossibly. When I came to really think about it, the worst was not the broken bones and bruises coating my skin: It was the cruel venom that was spat behind the hits and kicks that pained me the most. A mouth that used to be speaking such incredible sweetnesses, words filled with beautiful softness and soft beauty, confessions of things so pure and innocent, so painstakingly wrong, was now abusing me with words; the same words, out of the same mouth. 

What pained me the most, however, was the fact that I would never know; never know what the actual truth was. Was it the yelled insults, emphasized by rhythmic beating that didn’t seem to end, or the whispered love confessions at night? That I was the most beautiful human being, something worthy of being worshipped, or the dirt under your shoes that you wouldn’t want within ten feet of your worst enemy? 

I would never know. 

As the yelling faded into indecipherable slurs and the kicks started gradually slowing down, I let myself take a couple of deep breaths. They hurt like hell. 

Well, I thought, I’d had it worse. 

When it finally stopped, I dared to open my eyes wide enough to glance at the clock across the room. It indicated that it was already three o’clock in the morning, so the Monster had taken longer than usual. Well, It had seemed to be in an even worse mood than usually when Michael had gotten home two hours ago, so it had been stupid of me to get cheeky with the two of them. It always was my fault, after all. If I hadn’t provoked him, he hadn’t disappeared and the Monster wouldn’t have taken over his body. 

But now, neither of the two was to be seen. 

So I slowly dragged myself to my feet and started limping towards the bathroom. 

Maybe, someday, this would all be over. 

~

It’s funny, you know, the amount of weird shit your brain produces the second you get bored – everything seems to run in circles; you have the same thought every five seconds but you don’t get any closer to solving your problems. 

Some people would get creative when they were bored out of their mind, they’d find a way to put everything they have into words, or melodies, or drawings. Some people would desperately long for a change, you know, turn everything upside down and do shit they’d never done before; go out with their friends or learn a new language or something.

Or some people, like myself, would take it to an extreme, pack up all their things and move to another state, far away from home and everything that reminded them of their past. I’d left everything to get away, to keep me from thinking about the incidents of the years before – things better off forgotten. 

This all would’ve been perfectly understandable if I had been fourty-something, tired of my life and the people around me, buried deeply in a midlife crisis, but no, I’d just turned twenty-four. 

I was twenty-four, and I was tired of my life. 

I was twenty-four, and I had to move to another state to forget about the past that was haunting me. 

That was low, even for me. 

I was, however, violently torn out of my thoughts by the sound of thumping emerging from the apartment next door, followed by loud yelling and curses. They sounded somehow violent, and I took me a few more minutes to really understand what they were – I immediately flushed brightly red and made a mental note to remind my new neighbors to keep it down next time they couldn’t keep it, well, inside their pants. 

I’d just finished unpacking the masses of boxes I’d brought with me, but it still looked like a hurricane had swiped all over my new apartment. For a second, I considered calling my old high school friend Tino to get drunk for the first time at my new place, but decided against it since the chances were pretty high that he was getting busy with his girlfriend at this time of the day – well, night. 

So I was, once again, left alone, bored out of my fucking mind. 

Maybe, someday, this was all going to change.

Maybe, someday, I would eventually find someone to get me out of this monotonous hell.

~

While Michael and the Monster were at work, I had the apartment all to myself so I took my time to take a shower and assess the damage the claws of the Monster had done. My jaw had turned an unhealthy shade of purple and blue around the edges, yellowing around the corners of my mouth already. Down my chest was a pattern of red streaks and older, green and yellow bruises – it looked like a canvas, to be honest, painted in all shades of unhealthy, cold colors. My rib was still hurting like hell, so I took a couple of painkillers and downed a glass of cold water to numb the pain in my jaw. Eventually, I decided that there was not much else I could do and walked over to the couch where I desperately tried to make myself comfortable, albeit in vain. 

I didn’t know why I even bothered anymore. 

Three months ago, I’d put up a fight, I’d yelled at the Monster to stop it, and It had stopped. It’d turn back into Michael and he’d tell me he was sorry and he loved me; how he hadn’t wanted to do all this; and it had been fine. 

But now? I just took it, never complaining. He’d tell me that he loved me after. He’d tell me I was beautiful, perfect. 

The pain the Monster inflicted was just the price I had to pay in order to be loved.

~

The sun was already slowly setting, the night was nearing. I’d love to say that I wasn’t afraid, but I was – deadly afraid, in fact.

The darkness was scary. The Monster was usually hiding in the darkness, lurking somewhere in the bottom of a bottle that Michael had emptied in order to keep himself breathing. 

So many things would hide from me; agony waiting behind the closed door of our apartment. But what was I supposed to do? Run away? I’d given up on that long time ago. 

When the door finally barged open and the Monster, accompanied by Michael, walked in, I’d already closed my eyes, ready to endure everything It planned to put me through tonight. 

~

My neighbors were fucking again. I groaned and pulled the pillow over my head, hopefully drowning all the noises out. Unfortunately for me, they seemed to be doing it on a bed that was thumping against the wall repeatedly, in an annoyingly rapid rhythm. 

After some time, it stopped. 

I snuggled closer to the wall, eventually being able to curl up and go to sleep after they’d finished their…intercourse. 

I could’ve been mistaken, but I think I heard quiet sobbing coming from the room behind the paper-thin wall.

‘Humbug!’ I scolded myself, ‘Austin, you’re going fucking insane already.’ 

I pulled the covers around my body tighter and buried my head in the pillow.

I really needed a fresh start. 

And maybe tomorrow would be the day – the day the boredom would be defeated. 

~

I was sore all over. I couldn’t even locate the pain anymore; it had just spread all over my skin and through my bones, deeply burying itself in my flesh. Where was it all coming from? Where was up, where was down? 

I didn’t even know anymore. 

The Monster had been so, so angry when It had gotten home. It had hurt so much, but he’d told me he loved me afterwards. That I was beautiful. That I was all he’d ever wanted and that he hadn’t meant to hurt me as much as It did, that it had all just happened in the heat of the moment and that I shouldn’t blame him for it. If anything, I was the one to blame for making him angry and letting the Monster take over his body without hesitation.

I curled up in our bed silently, too afraid to close my eyes. They were stinging dryly, but I couldn’t let the darkness win over me. I couldn’t let it consume me entirely, I had to fight back. Tears were starting to well up, quickly spilling over and soaking the sheet under me. There were a few blood stains on the covers a couple of inches away. I didn’t want to know from which part of my body that blood had come from. 

My right hand was clutching my left desperately, trying to keep the pain from exploding through my body, but I knew it was only a matter of time. I was almost sure that it was only sprained instead of broken and could easily fixed with a couple of painkillers and a firm stare-down with my face in the mirror to tell myself that _I couldn’t be that much of a pussy_. 

I fell asleep because of sheer exhaustion after a couple of hours of shaking and sweating, eventually phasing in and out of a stormy slumber with shady images of excruciating nightmares, only to be awoken by the ringing doorbell.


	2. My Knight In Shining Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)

I swiftly checked my makeup in the mirror, hoping that it would cover all the bruises and hickeys on my neck, and readjusted my baggy sweatshirt and even baggier sweatpants. I felt like such a cliché – but that’s what I was: the cliché of the young, broken protagonist of a story.

When I felt ready, I cracked the door open and looked outside, only to meet the gaze of a pair of warm, chocolate colored eyes. Only later I noticed that they belonged to the face of a tall, skinny man with tousled brown hair peeking out from under a storm gray beanie. He was wearing torn jeans and a Slipknot tank that was showing off bright tattoos curling their way up and down his thin arms. When I snapped my gaze back up to his face, I could see the silver glistening of a nose ring as a wide smile sneaked its way onto his face, bright teeth flashing and eyes crinkling up with delight. 

“Hi, I’m Austin, your new neighbor,” he said. His voice was kind of raspy, as if he’d been smoking for years, but his smile seemed genuine and I eventually let myself believe that he was just a well-mannered neighbor introducing himself. 

Just someone, Alan. 

Calm down. 

He just wants to be nice. 

“I’m Alan,” I muttered under my breath. I didn’t dare to open the door a bit more. The Monster and Michael didn’t really like it when I let someone into our apartment without him there. 

“Well, maybe I can come in?” he asked with another smile, flashing flawless, white teeth. 

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, “I don’t think so.” I went to close the door, but he shoved his foot in the gap, ignoring the sure as hell painful thump when the wood collided with his worn out converse. 

“Are you alright?” he asked suddenly, a concerned expression masking his features. “You seem a bit…out of it.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied quietly and slammed the door shut. This time he didn’t try to restrain me from doing so. 

I let out a sigh of relief when the wooden door finally parted this strange person from me, protecting me from any other possible questions he had in mind. 

Curling up on the couch, I decided not to tell Michael about this strange encounter with our new neighbor in order to protect this Austin guy from anything the Monster could do to him as soon as It’d find out that he was asking questions. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen the way I still avoided putting any kind of pressure on my left wrist, or the way I was pulling my right foot behind me a bit because of the unbearable pain shooting up my leg as soon as I put any weight on it. He probably hadn’t, considering there had been maybe a two inch gap between the door and the doorframe. But, well, in this fucked up world, almost everything was possible. 

~

My second encounter with Austin was a bit less awkward, but still fairly ridiculous. 

It felt a little like a scene out of a cheap movie, to be honest. 

I had just finished shoving the dirty laundry in the washing machine and was slamming it shut, only to violently flinch at the loud sound because of the headache that had been gradually building up inside of me for the past hours, when the door to the laundry cellar slammed open and in walked Austin, wearing obnoxious pink Hello Kitty headphones and quietly humming along to some random song that sounded suspiciously like a Disney soundtrack, all while setting his laundry basket down onto one of the machines and digging through his jeans pockets for quarters. 

“Alan!” he exclaimed as soon as his gaze fell upon me, “Hi!” He took off his headphones and threw them aside, into the basket. 

“Hi, Austin,” I replied quietly, shyly lowering my gaze to the floor. My hands were tugging on the sleeves of my shirt nervously, hopefully covering all the noticeable bruises. I really had to get out of there soon; I could already feel my makeup starting to wear off. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked dumbly. 

“Well,” I said, raising my eyebrows, “Doing my laundry?” 

He nodded and gave me a bright smile. “Of course. Sorry. Just trying to start a conversation,” he explained. 

I shook my head, but couldn’t help the small smile creeping up on my face. “You’re ridiculous,” I informed him, and looked back at the ground. 

“I know, but you love it,” he insisted as he started sorting through the heap of fabric in his basket. I shook my head again, proceeded picking at my nails and impatiently waited for the machine to be done. 

After some time, I realized that my leg had started bouncing up and down nervously, and finally came to the conclusion that I had to get out of there for a minute. 

Taking the bright pink Hello Kitty headphones into account, the probability of Austin stealing my laundry was nearing zero, therefore I decided it was alright if I let him watch it for a few minutes. 

“Well, I think I will leave now,” I announced, “Could you, uhm. Maybe watch my laundry? I really have to take a piss, so.” 

“Sure!” Austin exclaimed, “You go do whatever, I’ll be down here!” He flashed me another ridiculously bright smile. 

For a second, I wondered what had happened to make him so…excited about life in general, but when I thought about it more closely, I came to realize that I actually found it quite endearing. 

“Thanks,” I muttered under my breath as I walked past him and up the stairs. Even though the pain in my ankle was almost suffocating me from the inside, I forced myself to walk normally, so Austin wouldn’t notice anything was off. 

The urgency to urinate had died off basically the second I had left the room, so I took my sweet time digging my keys out of my pocket and redoing my makeup. A part of me wanted to rush downstairs and start a conversation with Austin, talk to him and find out why he was here and, more importantly, why he was so _fucking excited_. But then again, he’d probably start being interested in my life and start asking _questions_ , which was something I needed to avoid at all costs. 

After checking my appearance in the hall mirror at least thrice, I declared myself ready and walked back down the stairs. In the laundry room, Austin was already sitting, listening to music with his dumb Hello Kitty headphones again. When I walked in, he gave me a wide, toothy grin. 

“ALAN!” he yelled loudly. I had to fight down the urge to return his smile. 

“Hi,” I muttered under my breath and walked back over to the washing machine with my clothes in it. Five minutes left. 

“So, Alan,” Austin said in a conversation-y tone. He’d taken off the headphones again, now they were hanging around his neck, still blasting ‘Kiss The Girl’ off the Arielle soundtrack. “Are you living alone?” 

I shook my head. “No,” I voiced it quietly, barely above a whisper. “I live with my boyfriend,” I added. “I hope that’s not a problem.” 

“No! Not at all! Whatever floats your boat, man!” He gave me another wide grin that probably implied that he was playing for my team as well. “Well, Alan, how old are you?” he continued. 

“Me? I’m, uh, twenty,” I replied hesitantly. Shit, he’d probably get suspicious. What kind of twenty-year-old kid was living with their boyfriend and not going to college or some shit? “And you?” I asked, just to move the conversation to his life and not mine. 

“I’m twenty-four. Moved here from Florida. Just got bored with my life, I guess,” he said, shrugging. 

I nodded understandingly. 

Boredom seemed like a strangely interesting topic to me, frankly. Why? Because being bored meant being _safe_. Having a place to stay at, a job, maybe even a family. A steady life that wasn’t about to change anytime soon. 

“That sucks. And your family wasn’t angry when you just sort of left?” I asked, even managing to sound genuinely interested. 

Austin shook his head. “My mother died a couple of years ago, and dad understood that I didn’t want to live down there anymore. And my friends…well, let’s just say the two of them weren’t particularly upset.” Out of sudden, his eyes darkened for a second and a pained look crossed his face, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared and I started doubting that it had even been there in the first place. 

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” I mumbled, still avoiding his gaze. 

“Don’t be, it’s in the past,” he said, and just like that, he was grinning widely again. “Are you going to college or something?” 

I gulped. I’d expected that one. “Uhm, no. I want to, though. I’ll maybe start applying in a couple of months,” I lied. “I just wanted to take a break after high school,” I added. 

“Yeah, I get that,” he said. The corners of his eyes were going all wrinkly, he was smiling that wide. It was ridiculous, really. “I wanted to take a break, too, but then I got accepted in Ohio, so I just sort of…went there…anyways, but now I’m working in a record store anyway, so that was absolutely unnecessary!” He let out a small laugh, but it had actually sounded like he was genuinely upset that this was all he could do. 

“Records stores are cool,” I said lamely, trying to make him feel at least a little better. 

“Yeah, they are. But I didn’t need to major in music for that,” he replied with a sour expression that looked so ridiculous, I almost let out a laugh. 

Just when I was about to say something else, the washing machine beeped and I could shove all the laundry into my basket again. When I started walking towards the stairs, Austin called after me. 

“Bye, Alan! It was nice taking to you! I hope we’ll meet again soon.” 

“Yeah, see you,” I replied quietly and proceeded in leaving the basement. 

~

“You _worthless piece of shit_!” It yelled venomously. The Monster was back. I took a second to wonder where Michael had gone, and where he was hiding, but my mind was swept clean when I had to throw up my arms in order to protect my head as It drew its foot back for another kick. A kick that never came, strangely. Instead, two strong hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me up. 

“Stop crying, you coward!” it screamed as it pushed me over to the bed. 

I’d have to change the sheets again tomorrow. They were already stained with blood and other bodily fluids that I’d rather not talk about. 

“I said to _stop fucking crying_!” It repeated, and I did my best to push back the tears. He’d tell me that I was perfect after, he’d only love me if I endured this. I had to be strong in order to be loved. I had to be perfect for him, because I loved him so much. He didn’t want all this, it was my fault. I was the one who always made cocky remarks, no wonder the Monster was always quick to lose Its temper. 

“Come on, baby. I love you,” he whispered in my ear. 

I forced myself to forget all the tears that were burning into my cheeks and smiled up at him, my cheeks twisting and turning almost unnaturally. 

“Do you love me too, Alan?” he asked. 

“Yes,” I croaked out. “Yes, I love you.” 

“Do you really?” It gripped my hair roughly and pulled my head back so my throat was exposed to it. 

“ _YES_!” I screamed as it pushed in without any further warning.


	3. We're The New Generation Of Liars And Cowards

The third time I stumbled upon Austin was on a warm Friday evening. 

I was standing on the balcony; smoking a cigarette with my uninjured hand and watching the sun slowly push itself behind the tall buildings that always seemed to be blocking the view in Los Angeles. I was wearing a hoodie, but I had the sleeves rolled up due to the unbearable heat, so the bright purple bruises were shimmering in the golden light slightly, almost looking pretty in the soft warmth. 

“Alan!” a ridiculously cheery voice suddenly called from the balcony to my right. I turned to see Austin there, a cloud of smoke circling his head like a dark halo and a half-smoked Marlboro in his left hand. He had his stupid Hello Kitty headphones on, which explained why he hadn’t talked to me any sooner, he’d most certainly been lost in his own little world that didn’t know things such as sadness and desperation. 

“Hi Austin,” I replied in a quiet voice and pulled the sleeves of my hoodie down, hoping he hadn’t seen anything. From the way that he was grinning over at me, I figured he hadn’t. 

“How are you?” he asked in a way that suggested that he was genuinely interested in my wellbeing. In the pale sunlight his features seemed to shine even more, to a point where his whole frame looked beautifully illuminated and his happy smile was even more pronounced. 

“’m fine, thanks,” I said, dropping my cigarette in the ashtray on the table. I shortly contemplated lighting another to have an excuse to continue talking to him, but then my gaze fell on the cheap watch on my wrist and I figured I’d have to cut this short. “You?”

“Oh, awesome! I got a job yesterday! Still at a record store, though,” he told me, still smiling, although the smile had faltered a bit when he’d mentioned said job. 

“That’s cool,” I muttered. “Well, it was nice talking to you, but-”

“Alan, I’m home!”

My heart stopped for a second, only to be restarted at an unsettlingly fast pace. 

“Oh, uhm. It was nice talking to you, bye,” I repeated maybe a little too quickly to be polite, and slammed the door shut behind me before Austin could even reply. Michael was already waiting for me in the living room, sitting on the couch with a bottle in his hand. 

“Who were you talking to, baby?” he asked. 

I suppressed the urge to let out a relieved sigh as the Monster apparently was still buried beneath his façade. 

“Just our new neighbor. I met him yesterday while doing our laundry. He’s a nice guy,” I told him. Michael just smiled and motioned for me to come over to him.

“How has your day been, sweetie?” he continued. 

“It was fine. I cleaned our bedroom, and then I watched TV for a bit,” I said. 

“Alright. Maybe you should invite our new neighbor over for dinner sometime soon. If he’s such a nice guy, you probably want to introduce him to me.” He gave me a blinding smile. 

I nodded. 

“Sure, Michael. Are you hungry? I was going to make dinner now, anyway,” I suggested with a smile. Michael was working so hard to keep us both alive. He was such a generous, thoroughly good man. It was only a small flaw about him that there was something in the back of his head that seemed to hide on the bottom of the beer bottles he had been clutching more frequently during the last couple months. He didn’t mean to. He did love me. 

It was my fault if anything, for not being able to keep my huge mouth shut. 

“Yes, make me dinner. And Alan?” 

“Yes?”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Sure. I love you too, Michael.”

~

“You useless son of a bitch!” the Monster screamed. 

Shit. I should’ve just bitten my tongue when I’d still been able to. Why did my big mouth always get in the way? Why did I always think that I could be cocky with Michael, when he was merely trying to make me happy? 

“Who do you think you are?” 

I shook my head. I didn’t know. I didn’t know who I was, or who I thought that I was. Or what I was doing with my life. I only knew that I had Michael, and Michael had the Monster. 

“I don’t…,” I croaked, “I don’t know…” I couldn’t even hear my own voice over the noise of blood rushing through my ears. 

“You don’t know who you are? What kind of human being doesn’t know who they are? You’re a failure, that’s what you are! A fucking failure, and that’s why your parents didn’t want you anymore!” 

“No,” I whispered, “No.” 

“What? What are you saying?” It yelled, “I can’t hear you over your fucking tears, you little pussy.” 

“No!” I called, now getting louder. “Leave me alone!” I screamed, but I immediately slapped my hands over my mouth the second the words had left them. What? Why was I complaining? I loved Michael! He was my savior, everything that I needed, everything that made my pathetic life worth living! Why was I trying to reject him? Maybe the Monster was getting stronger again, but it would be gone within ten minutes and replaced by my boyfriend! I needed to be strong. Be strong Alan, don’t be a pussy. Don’t drown in self-pity, there are people out there who have it so much worse than you do. 

“What did you just say?” It asked, Its voice dangerously close to my ear. I could feel Its hot, smelly, alcohol-laced breath brush against my neck as It inched closer and closer. 

“Nothing,” I said desperately. 

“Huh,” It replied. “Didn’t sound like nothing, or did it?” 

Suddenly, I felt a sharp slap on my cheek. 

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ get cocky with me ever again!” 

I nodded eagerly. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight!”

As It pushed in again, I swallowed down the tears and the vomit that had been gradually moving up my throat ever since the Monster had started showing. 

I had to endure all this. For Michael. 

~

Jesus. I really needed to tell Alan to keep it down with his boyfriend the next time I saw him. 

The slamming and creaking of the bed had been getting louder and louder over the past twenty minutes, until I could almost fucking _feel_ the dude pounding into the small, fragile ginger. They even had some weird dirty talk thing going on. It was disgusting. 

My headache had worsened noticeably in the course of only thirty seconds as I remembered that I had to call Gielle later and tell her about how she couldn’t just _steal all the shit from our old apartment, I needed towels too, you fucking bitch_. 

As the screams and throaty moans from the apartment next to mine got so loud that I couldn’t even ignore them by blasting Disney soundtracks through my entire apartment, I decided to go out for a while, even though it was nearing eleven o’clock. 

Alan and this guy _really_ had a great sex life. It was so disgusting; I couldn’t even find words to describe it. 

I left my apartment, locking the wooden door behind me, and started walking down the stairways until I reached the front door of the building. Cold air hit my face as soon as I’d stepped out, but that didn’t stop me from walking down the poorly lit street further. 

Shadows were dancing around the edges of the dusty asphalt and up the high skyscrapers that seemed to be towering over the horizon, as if reaching out to me with their black fingers and wanting to pull me deeper into the darkness. I wasn’t going to let them, though. Maybe fighting shadows would finally pose some interesting challenge in my life. 

Fighting shadows. It sounded so poetic. 

But poetry wasn’t going to make this any less monotonous. 

I let out an exasperated sigh.

Moving all across the damn continent hadn’t really helped.

~

Maybe forming a friendship with Austin wasn’t the best idea. Maybe sitting on his couch while Michael and the Monster were at work wasn’t the best idea. Maybe sharing cookies with Austin and talking about music and movies wasn’t the best idea.

But I was doing it anyway. 

And, for some reason, it felt insanely _good_. 

Austin made me laugh, and Austin had apologized when he’d accidently whacked me in the back of the head while stumbling over one of the boxes that still seemed to be littering his entire apartment. Austin didn’t seem to have a Monster hiding the back of his head. Austin hadn’t told me he loved me. 

“So. You said you were going to start applying for colleges. Any major that you have in mind?” Austin asked.

I reached for another delicious chocolate chip cookie in order to give myself time to think about the answer. Shit, what would I major in if I were to go to college? I just kind of coughed awkwardly and swallowed the remainder of the cookie before saying the first thing that had come to my mind. 

“Music, I guess,” I muttered, looking at a point somewhere in the distance. I briefly wondered if Austin had noticed that I never looked at him while he or I was talking, but he hadn’t said anything about it, so he couldn’t be particularly bothered by it.

“That’s cool!” he exclaimed. “Do you play any instruments?” 

“Yeah,” I said, “I can play guitar, but I haven’t done it in a long time.” 

“Awesome! You should totally play something for me someday!” 

I nodded silently, cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. Suddenly, my wandering gaze fell onto the clock on the wall, and I almost choked on the sip of coffee I’d been taking.

“Shit, it’s that late already?” I yelled and jumped up from the couch. “I’m so sorry Austin, I have to get going,” I explained, “Michael will be home in a couple minutes, and I don’t want him to worry.” 

Austin nodded understandingly and got up as well. “It’s fine, Alan, really,” he said calmly, “It was nice to have you over. We should do this again soon.” 

I flashed a brief smile and nod, then I was already walking towards the door, Austin following suit. 

“Alright, see you Alan,” he said as soon as we’d reached the exit. I turned around to look him in the eyes for maybe the third time since I’d met him and my smile widened. His chocolate-y eyes were sparkling vividly, completely different than the Monster’s dull grey ones. 

“Bye, Austin,” I muttered.

Suddenly, I felt myself being pulled into a bone crushing hug that I returned after a few seconds of almost painfully awkward hesitance. 

“It was nice to have you over,” Austin said. 

I gave him another tiny smile and closed the door behind me. 

~

“Where have you been?” Michael asked, kissing my cheek.

“Uhm,” I replied quietly, “I was over at Austin’s.” 

At the mention of Austin’s name, his jaw tightened noticeably, but his expression stayed warm and friendly. There had been a brief flash of anger dancing through his greyish eyes and I’d noticed although it had been gone in the course of a millisecond. 

I only saw it because I knew that look.

It was the Monster trying to break free, tearing at Its restraints, roaring in desperation and anger. 

“You should go to the bedroom, we’ll talk later,” Michael said, gritting his teeth ever so slightly. 

I nodded quickly and did as I was told. 

~

 _”You don’t just flirt with some guy, you fucking little slut,”_ it hissed, and I could vaguely feel the impact of another blow against my ribs, but my eyes were shut and I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it or if the Monster had actually touched me. 

_”You’re mine,”_ it continued. This time I was almost sure that I hadn’t imagined the awfully gritting sound of a bone snapping in half. Shit; that _was_ my rib. I’d have to go the hospital. 

Another hit against my chest, another one against the back of my head, a couple of slaps to keep me from passing out. I could feel cold fingers closing around my throat as my head was yanked back violently, exposing my Adam’s apple and the soft skin where my neck and shoulder met. Lips were planting wet kissed and harsh bites onto my abused collarbone. 

I just pressed my eyes shut, clamped my jaw closed and got ready to endure it.


	4. Sharpen Your Teeth, Tell Yourself That It's Just Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title credit: Bring Me the Horizon - And The Snakes Start To Sing   
> I hope you like this chapter, see y'all :)   
> M

The doorbell was ringing.

Questions rose immediately, giving me an instant headache; one of the especially painful ones. 

What the fuck? Why was it ringing? No one would visit me; and Michael was still at work. 

Before I could register what was even happening, the doorbell rang again, obnoxiously loud and cheerful in the empty, cold apartment. An apartment that felt more like a cave than a home. An apartment that, to me, was a prison. I tiredly picked myself up from the bed and staggered over to my dresser to throw on some sweatpants and a random t-shirt. 

The doorbell rang again. 

“Jesus, I’m on my way!” I yelled, instantly having to press a palm against my forehead to numb the burning pain that was shooting through my temples. 

And it rang again. 

I could feel slight anger boiling up inside my throat, but I forced myself to swallow it down and shrug on a hoodie to walk over to the door, slamming it open gracelessly. 

I was immediately greeted by a shocked expression on a usually so happy face, brown eyes widening in fear and a silver nose ring moving slightly into the nose as it crinkled in…disgust? Anger? Worry?

“Alan?” he gasped, subconsciously moving closer and causing me to stumble back a bit. 

“What are you doing here, Austin?” I asked impatiently, retreating further into the apartment and gripping the door to hide myself behind it. I tried subtly shutting it a little, mainly to cover my arms and legs. 

I hadn’t taken a look in the mirror yet, but judging by the expression on Austin’s face, it was pretty bad. The Monster had hit parts of my body that I couldn’t just hide behind a hoodie and a lot of makeup. No, this time, I’d really gotten it. 

“Shit, what happened to your face?” he asked, still caught up in the shock of seeing me like this.

“Thanks for your concern,” I replied dryly, and went to close the door, but he shoved a foot in front of the doorframe to stop it midway, reminding me very much of our first encounter.

“Alan,” he said firmly, “Don’t fuck with me now.” 

I rolled my eyes at him, although I was everything but annoyed. Mainly, I was trying to keep him from pulling some kind of hero stunt and throwing himself into the fire for me, as he did quite strike to me as the type of person who’d have a savior complex. One of the exceptionally bad ones, one that would physically force him to want to help and rescue. 

“What happened to your face?” he repeated with emphasis, coming closer to me once again. 

“I slipped in the shower, nothing serious,” I lied, not even flinching. I’d told this story numerous times, and only now did I realize just how ridiculous it sounded - no one had ever really cared, everyone had let it slide. 

“Yeah, and the shower left handprint-shaped bruises on your fucking neck,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair and sighing exasperatedly. 

“Yeah, well. It’s my sex life, not yours,” I replied coldly, trying to play it off as some weird dom/sub relationship; this odd thing where people pretended that being objectified would give them freedom. Maybe he would be embarrassed enough to leave me alone. 

If I pushed him away now, I wouldn’t let myself care. It was that easy. 

“Alan, you can’t tell me that this all happened during…whatever the fuck it is that you and your mysterious boyfriend are doing,” he hissed, furrowing his brow. 

“We like it that way,” I insisted sourly, even though bile and spit were slithering up my throat at merely the thought of that. 

He raised his eyebrows questioningly, but didn’t push the subject any further. 

“Alright. So, I actually just came here to ask you if you wanted to come over or anything, you know, since it’s Friday and you’re probably bored and all that.” 

I only questioned his motives for a few, angry seconds. Austin and his heroic pretend-play were not looking to destroy me any further, at least I thought so. 

Then again, Michael was just like him: A misunderstood man with a savior complex. 

I gulped. If Michael got home and noticed that I wasn’t there again, I would most certainly get a punishment worse than a few bruises. 

On the other hand, talking to Austin sounded like the most amazing thing ever, at least for the time being. Escape from the hell I called home for a few hours, to a person that didn’t need to tell me they loved me. A person that didn’t hide a Monster. 

“Uhm, yeah, sure,” I replied eventually. 

I’d just have to watch the clock. 

“Awesome!” Austin exclaimed.

“Just give me a couple of minutes, I’ll actually get dressed,” I told him and slammed the door shut before he had the chance to reply.   
Leaning against the closed door, I gulped. I’d have to look in the mirror now. Shit. My eyes fell shut immediately as I stepped forward and had caught a glance at the skinny frame of my reflection. 

“Fuck,” I mumbled, but forced myself to look at it anyway. 

The first thing my gaze fell onto was my neck. There was, in fact, a handprint-shaped bruise covering my entire throat, framed by smaller bruises that indicated bites or, maybe if you lied hard enough, hickeys. My face was fairly untouched, actually, only a small purple shadow was painting my high cheekbone, clashing horribly with my hair. When I took off my hoodie and shirt, I almost gasped at the awful shades of green, blue, red and other colors that were wrapping themselves around my slight love handles, chest and arms. I eventually decided that this had been enough for now and walked into the bathroom to down a couple of painkillers and take an extended shower to wash all of the dirt that’d been gathering ever since the Monster had first touched me last night off my skin. 

Skin. 

The skin that was covered, obscured, deafened. 

Finally, I got dressed again, carefully covering all the bruises littering my upper body, and looked in the mirror again. It was better. Not good, but better.

Wrinkling my nose, I decided against makeup since Austin had seen everything already and would most likely find it weird if I covered it up, which would lead to him wondering if this had happened before, which would lead to him asking questions, which would lead to him finding out the truth, which would lead to him not wanting to be friends with me anymore. 

I let out a deep, exhausted sigh and pulled on my shoes to leave the apartment. 

~

“Three or four months,” Austin said, giving me a sly smile, “If there’s no one who makes me want to stay.”

“Really? And what are you going to do then?” I asked incredulously, “Just pack up your shit again and move to, say, Illinois?” 

“I don’t know yet.” He gave me a grin that would make the sun look dim. “I’m trying to live adventurously.”

“Seems to be working out just great,” I muttered, more to myself than anything, but if he noticed, he didn’t say it. 

A small giggle escaped my mouth after that, causing me to slap my hand over my mouth, and even though I was trying to be subtle about it, Austin gave me a weird look, but luckily remained quiet yet again. 

“So, what about you, Alan? Have you been living in LA all your life?” he asked, taking a sip from his coffee mug. 

“Yeah, I have,” I replied quietly, biting my lip slightly, desperately searching the room for something to distract myself and Austin with. And, as if heaven was trying to save me, I spotted the _500 Days Of Summer_ DVD case in the shelf below the TV. 

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed, mentally slapping myself for getting so excited over something that stupid, “You like _500 Days Of Summer_?” 

Austin laughed. “Yeah, I love it. It was my ex-girlfriend’s favorite,” he explained. Yet again, a pained expression crossed his face, but was gone in the course of a second. 

“Oh,” I replied intelligently, because I couldn’t think of anything better. 

“We can watch the movie if you want,” Austin suggested with another blinding smile. 

I nodded, trying to keep myself from getting too excited again. Austin just laughed again and got up to put the disk in the DVD player. 

An hour into watching the movie, Austin and I had been gradually moving closer, until his arm was situated around my shoulder and my head was resting comfortably on his firm, brightly colored chest. His scent was curling into my nose, a mixture of deodorant and cookie-smell (however cookies smelled, Austin smelled like cookies, fuck logic) settling in. I was so comfortable; I almost forgot to watch the clock.

~

“You’re cheating on me,” Michael said. I could see the Monster behind his eyes pulling at its restrains, desperately trying to break the chains and free itself to do me the most harm it possibly could. 

“No, I’m not,” I replied honestly, “I love you.” I wasn’t even trying to convince him, I knew the Monster was getting stronger by the second, it would show in a few minutes or hours anyway and I couldn’t do anything to prevent that from happening. 

“Then show me that you love me, Alan,” Michael demanded, moving closer and closer to me. Hi gaze was almost challenging. I was fighting the urge to step back, but I lost and did it anyway, which seemed to anger the Monster even more. The dark flames from the inside were starting to consume Michael’s grey eyes, pulling at the irises and widening the pupils until it was all black and burning again. The Monster had almost arrived.

“Alan,” Michael’s voice said slowly, mixing with the monster’s, “Go in the bedroom and wait for me.”

I nodded quickly and did as I was told. 

~

Pain was burying itself into my stomach and starting to spread out into my arms and legs and, eventually, head. I guessed the Monster had hit it against the wall a couple of times, since I could feel hot, fresh blood dripping from the back of my skull, dying my orange hair in a darker shade of red. I knew that I needed to see a doctor with this, but I couldn’t find the strength to push myself out of my bed. My body was sore all over. Every joint, every muscle, every inch of skin screamed in pain as soon as I tried to move. How much time had passed, I didn’t know. Hell, a year could have gone by, and I wouldn’t have noticed. 

The sun was setting slowly, disappearing behind the skyscraper in the distance and painting the sky in the most beautiful colors; pink, orange, blue and purple fading into each other and creating something like a rainbow, only prettier. As I watched the sun be conquered by an especially bright, almost blood-red mood, my eyelids were growing heavy and eventually fell shut, blocking out the images of the real life and making room for the nightmares that were about to haunt me. But luckily, they never came. 

All I saw was black.


	5. Your Slips and Slurs, Your Play on Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title is taken from _Graveyard Dancing_ by Destroy Rebuild Until God Shows and if you don't know that song, I can highly recommend it, it's awesome :)   
>  anyways, I know this is not exactly the frequently visited end of AO3, but thanks a lot to the few people who are reading this, it's a story that's always meant a lot to me - it's the second one that I published.   
> I hope you all enjoy this rewrite, and I'm going to work on dishing out the chapters a little faster from now on :D   
> xo  
> M

I didn’t wake up. 

I was awoken. 

By the sound of rhythmic drumming against the door, followed by the ringing doorbell and more thumps of a fist against the wooden surface. I felt like it wouldn’t stop anytime soon; whoever was there was persistent. 

Knock, knock. 

Ring, ring. 

Thump, thump. 

Ring, ring.

My head felt like hell. Who would visit me at this time of the day? Why did they not understand that when a door doesn’t open for you, the person on the other side might not want to talk to you? 

Most importantly, who was I kidding? 

I knew exactly who it was – and yet, I made no move to get up. 

My head immediately started hurting – had it even stopped? – and the loud noise was only worsening the agony I found myself to be in, sending sharp shocks of headaches ripping through and making me feel ready to just tear off my own head; sever the skin strip by strip by strip. The pain was sickening, suffocating; pulsing through my body relentlessly. 

The light bursting through the window and into my eyes caused shocks of agony that made my mind swim until I was dizzy even laying down. 

After ten minutes, or maybe an hour, or maybe three days, the knocking and ringing still hadn’t subsided and the pain had gotten absolutely unbearable. Therefore, I pushed myself to do the last sprint on the race to be awake at last and started staggering out of bed. It was utterly horrible – I felt so insanely nauseous; my head spinning in rapid circles around me. So, so dizzy, everything spun, shapes dancing and lights flashing. 

I struggled to put on sweats and a hoodie, shoving the hood up over my head. He didn’t need to see any more than he’d already seen, I concluded, and pushed my hair to cover the nape of my neck, my neck painted in bright red and shades of iridescent purple. With a final scowl at my reflection in the mirror I ensured that every wound was securely hidden behind some kind of fabric and walked over to the door, cracking it open just the slightest bit to peer through the tiny gap, only to be met with a concerned gaze burning through warm, brown eyes. 

My feet felt ready to give in beneath me for the short walk had shaken up the sick feeling in my stomach that probably came from not really eating solid food in days. Or maybe it was because of all the emotion behind Austin’s eyes, staring me down oh so condescendingly. Pitiful. 

Pathetic, really. 

“Alan!” he exclaimed nervously, obviously trying to sound normal; casual, even.

Casual, after banging on my door for fifteen minutes straight, like the world was ending and I was the John Cusack to his Amanda Peet. 

“Hey,” I replied quietly, “Are you okay?” 

Austin bit his lip, taking a hesitant step forward. 

“Uhm,” he said, “Can I talk to you? Like, in private?”

A frown appeared on my forehead, hidden behind strands of orange hair that were falling out from the hood. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I replied eventually, subconsciously pulling the sleeves of my hoodie down to hide the bruises on my arms, even though I knew Austin wouldn’t be able to see them even if I was naked behind the door. I once again made sure that the frame hid my every move and every inch of my body. I had gotten so focused on hiding after all these years. 

“Why not?” he asked, forehead wrinkling in confusion, “It’s really fucking important, Alan.” 

“I’m sorry, I can’t talk to you,” I said firmly. My head had started spinning a bit, dizziness slowly seeking to consume the last coherent thoughts the Monster hadn’t beaten out of me. 

“Please Alan, I really need to talk to you,” Austin said with emphasis, stepping even closer. My vision went blurry around the edges, shapes rapidly melting into each other until everything was just a monotonous slur of colors and nonexistent borders between things and frames. 

“Alan?” he said, voice slipping off into its vicinity until it was surrounding all my surroundings along with what I could see, the twisting and dancing of menacing Monster-like shapes. Up the walls and down my body, gripping me tightly and dragging me off into the country of moonlight and threat. 

The last thing I heard before I blacked out was a panicked yell; I didn’t know whether it had emerged from my throat or Austin’s. 

“Alan!” someone screamed again, and I passed out. 

~

I was lost somewhere between the end and the beginning. Shapes were burning into my closed eyes that seemed to be moving rapidly even though I couldn’t make out a thing in the dark. 

It was surreal; I didn’t know where or who I was. 

Sweat was coating my forehead and temples, causing my hair to stick to the skin in the grossest way possible, but I didn’t feel it, anyway. 

At some point between closing my eyes and screaming in pain, I maybe could have felt the ghost of a touch on my hand, someone holding it, comforting me. Or rather, trying to. 

I didn’t remember anything of this when I woke up. 

~

“I don’t know what happened, for fuck’s sake. I was ringing his doorbell ‘cause I wanted to talk to him, and he seemed a little off. I didn’t know what the fuck happened or why he just passed out, but it sure as hell wasn’t my damn fault.” 

The voice seemed to come from afar, somewhere in the distance. I didn’t know where I was, or why my head was hurting this much, or why there was something sharp and cold stuck in my arm. My blood felt cold in my veins, pumping a chilly feeling through my entire body. The cold was coming from within me, like not even my body bothered to keep warm anymore. 

My eyes were too heavy, so I left them closed and focused on trying to remember what had even happened. All I could recall was that the Monster had done something, then Michael had gone to work and I’d been woken up by someone banging on the door of our apartment like the world was ending outside, waking me from my well-deserved slumber. 

“This whole thing doesn’t feel right to me, man,” another voice said. It was an unfamiliar one and I was sure I’d never heard this person talk before, but seeing the state I was in, my mother could’ve been talking to me and I wouldn’t have recognized her, so maybe I wasn’t the most reliable source of information. “Honestly, this seems so shady to me.” 

“Yeah,” said the other voice, the one that sounded scarily familiar. “Then there’s the boyfriend character, and it’s just…”

“What?” 

“I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling about the guy, and I don’t really feel comfortable letting him go back to him. I mean, have you seen the way his chest looks?” The familiar voice heaved out a sigh, one that bounced off the walls and did nothing to ease my headache. “And his neck – these bruises look suspiciously like handprints. Have you seen them?” 

“Yeah, I have.” A sigh. “Just…try not to get too involved, okay?” 

“Sure, Tino, it’ll be fine. I’m just so worried, you know?” the first voice responded. I was so sure that I’d heard this one before, but I just wasn’t able to place it – like there was a wall inside my head blocking away all my memories. 

“I would be, too. But don’t push it, I mean, look at this guy,” the second one reminded the first one. “He’s broken.” Only now did I realize that they were, in fact, talking about none other than me. Me, scars? Wounds? Where? And who were _they_ , anyway? 

“What kind of broken?” the higher voice asked. By now, I was sure that I knew it from somewhere, but I still couldn’t associate any names or faces with the high-pitched albeit male and smoky tone. 

“The bad kind. The _It’s-totally-not-his-fault_ -kind.” 

Another deep sigh bounced off the walls around me. “Yeah. I know. It’s just…it seems so unreal, you know? But on the other hand, it would fit.” 

“Whatever, dude. I have to go now. Call me if he wakes up,” the deeper voice said finally. I could hear the thumps of heavy footsteps and the sound of a door opening and falling closed. Now I was alone with the creepily familiar voice and my own thoughts. 

‘Great,’ I thought and then I passed out again.

~

The next time I woke up, I wasn’t that confused anymore. I still couldn’t really feel anything but headaches and cold, I still couldn’t see at all, but I was almost sure that the voice I was hearing all the time belonged to Austin. It would make sense, since he was probably the person that had brought me to the hospital in the first place, although it didn’t make sense that he was still here. If I was him, I would’ve been out the door quicker than anyone could have said ‘domestic abuse’. I wouldn’t have wanted to get involved in something like this. 

But he seemed to be there. 

Always. 

~

“Alan?” some distant voice asked. It wasn’t the same voice I’d heard for the last days; it was a completely different one. 

But this time, my eyelids didn’t feel so heavy anymore. I gingerly lifted them, only to cringe at the bright lights that were immediately burning into my skull. 

“Alan!” the voice exclaimed. I blinked rapidly, desperately trying to clear my vision. After a few minutes, the frames of the room around me started getting harder until I could eventually see the walls of Michael’s and my bedroom. 

“Alan,” the voice repeated again. A soft hand was touching my cheek, wiping away the disgustingly thick layers of sweat. Calloused fingers stroking at my abused, thinned skin. 

“Oh my God, Alan,” he said. It sounded so loving and caring; I almost didn’t realize that the hand and voice belonged to the same person. But eventually, my gaze fell onto   
Michael, his eyes bright and filled with worry. 

“What happened to you?” he asked. 

I shook my head slightly, trying to tell him that I didn’t know, but he continued.

“What did he do to you? Oh my goodness, Alan, you worried me so much!” he exclaimed, causing me to clamp my eyes shut due to the pain that was shooting through my head at his yelling. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered. I didn’t know whether I wanted to reply or not. I didn’t know anything right now, to be honest. It had been the Monster who’d done this, right? Not Michael? Not…Austin? I gulped. 

“I can’t lose you,” he added softly, voice getting closer and closer to my ear. “Please don’t ever leave me, Alan.” His hand was now running through my hair, brushing away dirty, greasy orange strands. “I wouldn’t survive without you in my life.” His other hand wandered over to the nape of my neck, gingerly caressing the most likely blue-ish, cracked skin there. “You love me too, right?” he demanded, a sharp undertone sneaking into his voice. I could feel myself starting to shake in fear. “Shhhh,” he soothed, “You don’t have to answer.” He continued moving his hand up and down my neck. I would have liked to smack it away, but everything hurt. I wasn’t able to move. And deep down, I knew it would be wrong to push Michael away. He was all I had. “I know you love me just as much as I love you.” I shuddered under his touch. Goosebumps were prickling all over my skin, but Michael didn’t seem to mind since he just continued touching me. “Although you might have doubted our relationship in the past days,” he proceeded. “You are not allowed to talk to this Austin person anymore.” I’d expected that. Because Austin knew, I had to stay away from him. “He only wants to ruin what we have,” Michael muttered. “He only wants to tear us apart because he knows that we love each other.” I started shaking again slightly as Michael moved his hand to my chest that was littered with bruises and cuts the Monster had caused during the last beatings.

“I love you,” I whimpered as his fingernails dug into the soft skin above the waistband of my boxers.


	6. Inside's Crying, 'Save Me Now'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title credit: Linkin Park - Iridescent (also another great song, but I think everyone knows linkin park)   
> thanks for reading :)

This time, I wasn’t awoken. Sleep had just decided to spit me out, leaving me even more tired than before my nap. I didn’t know how that was even possible, but the easiest explanation was to say that exhaustion had settled so deeply into my bones that I didn’t matter how much I slept, I could never catch up. 

All I could see when I opened my eyes was the dark ceiling of the bedroom that Michael and I occupied, I saw the wall right next to my head, with blood stains littering the white surface right where the wooden headboard ended. My limbs were too heavy to move, so I just lay there for hours, staring off into space and wondering, pondering and remaining silent. 

The alarm clock on the nightstand was slowly ticking away second after second as I pressed my eyes shut and tried to force myself into passing out. Naturally, it didn’t work, and I just continued to lay here. After hours, the horizon outside the small window started brightening up as the sun began to make its way across the clear, cloudless sky. It was another beautiful day in California, the sun beaming down upon rosy-cheeked people who were going about their business quietly. It wasn’t long until the streets started bustling with small noises here and there, the sounds of footsteps on concrete and honking cars travelling up to my window. I was torn between wanting to scream for help out the window, begging an innocent passer-by to rescue me from my prison, and contemplating to smother myself with the pillow that was securely tucked under the back of my head. Eventually, though, that choice was made for me when the door opened and Michael walked in, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. 

“Alan! You’re awake! How are you?” he asked, voice sweet and loving. If I tried hard enough, I could hear something that sounded similar to the warmth that Austin carried with himself wherever he went. Similar, but not quite the same. 

“Fine,” I croaked, because I knew that was what he wanted to hear.

“That’s great! Now, could you maybe get up? It’s almost noon, you see, and you don’t really look appealing, if you know what I mean.” He gave me a sickeningly sweet smile that caused spit and sick to well up in my sore throat, even though I couldn’t fathom a reason for it. I loved Michael, Michael loved me. “So please take a shower, love,” he added, as if he hadn’t made himself clear yet. 

I sighed and started pulling the heavy covers off my skinny body. My arms felt so weak, like I hadn’t moved them for days. Like all the muscles had receded into nonexistence from lack of physical activity. It suddenly felt like I was lifting weights of steel instead of soft blankets. The second I’d pushed them off my body, however, the cold had me shuddering and longing for the warmth and safety of my own bed, but I forced myself to continue and place my feet on the cold, hard floor. 

“That’s a good boy,” Michael said and all but shoved me out the door. 

~

After washing off the dirt I’d gathered over the last couple of days, I grabbed my pack of Marlboro Reds and walked out on the balcony, secretly hoping that Austin would be there this time and could explain to me what had happened. 

Of course, I had no such luck.

As I stood there, watching other people’s busy lives go down on the streets of Los Angeles and inhaling the poisonous fumes from the half-smoked cigarette in my right hand, I finally let myself process what had happened. 

The Monster had done something; something bad. Austin had driven me to the hospital, but the next time I’d woken up I’d been back home with Michael, who immediately started telling me he loved me and that he could never live without me. What had happened in between those two events? As far as I knew, there was at least a 48-hour time span between Austin showing up at my doorstep and me being awoken by Michael’s loving hands. I couldn’t help but crave to know the truth that Michael was trying so hard to hide from me. Maybe Austin could help me, though. I only had to ask him when Michael and the Monster were gone. I threw the cigarette into the ashtray, but didn’t go inside right away. For a few minutes, I just idly leaned against the wall of the dirty apartment building Michael and I lived in, watching the people sweat in the ridiculous heat and spill coffee all over themselves in their hurry. The crowded streets and casually dressed people indicated that it was weekend, probably Saturday, but I wasn’t sure, so I made a mental note to check the date as soon as I was back inside the apartment. 

A small wind was pulling at my slightly wet hair, but it was so warm that I couldn’t really bring myself to care, even though now I probably looked like I had dried my hair off with a towel and left it that way. I hadn’t even noticed the door to Austin’s balcony sliding open and someone stepping out until said Someone let out a sharp yell in surprise. 

“Hey! You’re the guy!” the Someone yelled out, and it took me a few moments to realize that he was talking to me. 

“Ugh,” I replied eloquently, “What guy?”

“Austin’s neighbor. We actually met when you were in the hospital, but you were so drugged, man, you probably don’t even remember me.” 

I raised an incredulous eyebrow at the person in front of me. He was maybe a little taller than me, with straightened black hair covering half of his face and tattoos wrapping around his arms and legs where they weren’t covered by his baggy sweatshirt and absolutely hideous shorts. He looked a little like he was on a safari, which was arguably the most ridiculous thought I had had in a long time. 

“Yeah, I probably don’t,” I replied quietly, lighting up another cigarette to give myself time and reasons to continue talking to this guy.

“Anyways, I’m Tino, it’s nice to meet you,” he introduced himself, extending a hand over the gap between the two balconies to shake my hand. I raised an incredulous eyebrow at him. 

“I’m Alan,” I replied quietly, hesitantly sliding my hand into his. I stared at his hand for an embarrassingly long time, just taking in the way that his bear-like musician hand closed around my smaller one. As I finally dared to look up, I saw the friendly smile he was giving me and I let out a sigh of relief. If this was a friend of Austin’s, he could probably tell me what had happened. 

“Uhm, so,” I started, biting my lip shyly, “Could you maybe, uh, tell me what happened? It all happened pretty fast, and Michael hasn’t come around to telling me everything yet.” 

Tino gave me a funny look, but didn’t question my statement, luckily. “Sure. So, uhm, I don’t know the whole thing, but a couple of days ago, I got a completely panicked phone call from Austin. He told me that a friend of his was in the hospital and asked me to bring him food and clothes while he waited for you to wake up. But while I was taking a piss, something between your boyfriend and Austin happened, I think they got into a fight, and when I walked out the bathroom, you and this Michael dude were gone and Austin had a blue eye and was…” He took a deep breath. “Upset, to say the least.” 

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “That sounds unlike Michael,” I told Tino while flicking the ash of my cigarette into the ashtray. 

“Whatever, dude. It’s awesome to see that you’re doing better. I just think you should go and talk to Austin, he’s pretty…” He frowned, his nose scrunching up like he was deep in thought. “Upset, to say the least,” he repeated with a small smile. 

That sparked something like confusion inside me, but I violently repressed the urge to reply. If I said something now, it would be something about Michael’s Monster, and I couldn’t tell anyone about it, or the Monster would get angry – the Monster didn’t want to be acknowledged. 

“Look, dude,” Tino said, leaning over the banister to look at me. “I know it’s none of my business, but if there’s anything wrong, you know that you can always talk to me.” He smiled softly. “And to Austin, for that matter. I’m sure he’d be stoked to help you anytime.” 

I raised my eyebrows questioningly. “What would make you think there’s something wrong?” I asked. 

“Alan, someone fucked you up real bad, and I get the feeling that this someone is your boyfriend,” he said bluntly. “You don’t have to put up with that shit,” he continued, looking at me with a vague expression of pity. I shook my head, never having heard anything more ridiculous.

“Everything is just fine, thanks Tino. But I kind of have to leave now,” I announced quietly, throwing the still glowing butt of my cigarette over the banister into the shitty alleyway below the balconies. 

“Alright, Alan. But don’t forget to talk to Austin,” he reminded me, just before I slid the door shut behind me. 

Not a minute too late, I figured a bit later. 

~

_”Alan!”_

I bit my lip, unintentionally taking a step back. I felt like I was trapped inside a shitty book, with a lump in my throat and panic shaking my knees and hands, the incessant fear that had grabbed ahold of my body dragging goosebumps all over my skin. 

_”Alan!”_ It repeated, coming closer too quickly for my liking. As I took another step, my back hit the wall. 

So; now I really _was_ trapped. 

“Who were you talking to?” It asked, baring its cigarette-stained teeth. 

“No one,” I squeaked. My chest had started rising erratically, desperate to pump oxygen into my bruised body. “Please don’t,” I pleaded, “I just got back from the hospital.” 

The Monster let out a cold, humorless laugh. “And why were you in a hospital?” It asked. When I didn’t reply, It chuckled again, dark shadows dancing over Its face. “Because you’re weak.” It came closer again, blocking every way for me to escape with Its arms, claws digging into my skin. “You’re pathetic,” It whispered, dangerously close to my ear. 

“You’re a pathetic, weak little bitch, that’s why you were in hospital,” It told me. 

I threw my head back, desperately trying to get away from the Monster in front of me, even though I knew It wasn’t going to budge. The only thing left I could do was pray that It would get over with this soon and fast, so Michael could return from his place in the dull, lifeless eyes of the Monster that was possessing him. 

But I knew this wasn’t going to be fast. It never was, no. 

The Monster would drag it out as long as it could, as usual. 

I closed my eyes, trying to think of better days – days of the past, where no Monster had been domiciled in Michael’s body.


	7. The Truth is a Terrible Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title credit: the truth is a terrible thing - You Me At Six (God I love them so much, it's not even funny)   
> xo   
> M

“Have a good day, Alan,” Michael said, before pressing a kiss to my lips and picking up his wallet from the bedside table. “Call me if you need anything. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” I croaked mechanically. The bruises on my neck were making it hard for me to talk; I didn’t even want to think about eating or drinking anything. The patterns of blue and red sickened me when I looked in the mirror, but I couldn’t find a reason whatsoever. 

As soon as the door slammed shut, I forced my tired body out of bed, walked past the mirror without looking at my reflection and straight into the bathroom, where I stripped down quickly and got into the shower. With my back turned to the room, I started cleaning myself off. My eyes were sternly fixed onto the wall for I wanted to avoid looking at my body as much as possible. It turned out to be a challenge quite hard to overcome, as it appeared to be a necessity to look at my chest while soaping it up.

I somehow managed, however, and eventually got out of the shower and dressed in fresh clothes without as much as sneaking a peek at my most likely horribly disfigured and scar-patterned skin. After checking my appearance in the mirror more times than I should be able to count when everything was securely hidden, I finally started making my way towards the door, but not without glancing at the clock and sighing in relief when I noted that it had only just passed eleven AM and Michael and his Monster wouldn’t be home until four or five. 

My steps seemed far too loud, bouncing off the dark tiled floor and dirty walls and hammering into my skull, which felt like I’d listened to death metal on full blast for an entire day without stopping or turning down the volume. 

As I raised my arm and knocked on Austin’s door, sharp pain shot up into my wrist. 

Shit. This time, it most likely _was_ broken. 

Fuck. I let out a surprised gasp at the sudden sensation, but just when I was about to double over in pain, the door opened and Tino gave me a curious look. Biting my tongue, I focused on trying to act normal and swallowing down the pain. It wasn’t the first time I’d done it, anyway. 

“Hi Alan,” Tino greeted with a warm smile, shrugging his hair out of his face.

“Hey,” I replied nervously, trying to keep myself from twiddling my thumbs or doing anything else that would certainly hint at my discomfort. 

“Austin’s in the bathroom right now, but you can wait here until he gets back,” he explained. Without waiting for my reaction, he pulled me into the apartment and slammed the door shut behind me. 

“Just make yourself comfortable on the couch, I was in the middle of eating breakfast.” Tino gave me a wide smile and started walking off into the direction of the kitchen. After a few seconds he reemerged with a bowl of cereal in his hands and still a slight smile playing around the corners of his mouth. 

“How are you doing?” he asked in a small-talk-ish tone. 

I suppressed the urge to quirk an eyebrow at the question and settled on nodding and smiling. “Better, thank you,” I pressed through my teeth. 

“That’s awesome.” He added a nod, but didn’t say anything else, so I figured that our conversation was over and returned to awkwardly staring at the floor and counting the coffee stains on the carpet that I was almost completely sure hadn’t been as numerous the last time I’d visited Austin. It felt like years had passed since that last visit. 

I liked Austin’s apartment. It was nice. With an old, worn out leather couch, a small TV and a small coffee table – complete with clusters of forgotten cigarettes and ashtrays strewn across it – , this room looked like a home. The apartment Michael and I inhabited was always tidy and clean since I had a lot of free time during the day. Nothing smelt like me or Michael; nothing felt like it truly belonged to us, because I’d always be on the spot immediately to clean up behind the two of us. As weird as it sounded, my home didn’t really feel like my home at all. 

After a few minutes of slightly uncomfortable and tense silence, the lock of the bathroom door clicked and Austin walked out, clad in nothing but a towel that was loosely slung around his middle, hipbones jutting out just above the upper seam. I didn’t dare look at his face. I was certain that the blue eye hadn’t faded away in the slightest over the course of the las few days and I really didn’t want to see that. Not before I’d apologized, at least. After a few seconds of standing there, unmoving and awkward, Austin turned around and walked towards what I presumed was his bedroom to get a change of clothes.

Eventually, the same door barged open and out walked Austin in a pair of ratty sweatpants and another Slipknot tank top. I shyly averted my gaze and resumed to stubbornly staring at the floor while talking. 

“I’m so fucking sorry, Austin,” I whispered into my fringe. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could hear the confusion wrinkling around his eyes and deepening the frown that already seemed to be burnt into his forehead. 

“Why are you sorry, Alan?” he asked, voice calm and collected. “Because you lied to me? Or because your boyfriend punched me across the face?” I flinched at every single word Austin had spat out, shoulders hunching in shame. 

“I’m really, really sorry,” I only repeated quietly. I could hear shuffling next to me that indicated that Tino had gotten up and started making his way towards the kitchen. 

“You shouldn’t be sorry, Alan,” Austin told me, voice heavy and without a hint of emotion, “You should get out of there as fast as you can.” I shook my head frantically, as if the thought alone could force the Monster out of Michael again. 

“I can’t,” I replied, still talking to the floor. “I don’t want to,” I added, as if that thought had only just crossed my mind – stupid. I would never be able to leave Michael, I loved him too much. 

Austin let out a loud sigh. Next to me, the couch dipped with the weight of another person and finally, I could feel a skinny arm around my shoulders. 

“I know you don’t,” he mumbled, pulling me a bit closer to his chest. “You love him, don’t you?”

I gulped. “I love him, but I don’t love… _It_.” 

“What is _It_?” he asked calmly. 

“The Monster,” I whimpered, “The Monster behind his eyes.” 

Austin let out another deep, heavy sigh and rested his chin on my head. Neither of us spoke up in the next ten minutes; we were both busy trying to figure out what the other one had just said. It was by no means a comfortable silence, through the entire time I wished that Austin would only give any sort of indication on whether he hated me or wanted me out of his life or still harbored this disgusting feeling of pity toward me. But he didn’t, and all I could hear was the clock ticking away the seconds, although not before dragging them out and letting each and every single one of them rest on the edge of existence for a small eternity. 

Austin’s arm around my shoulder felt frozen, cold to the touch. I didn’t dare try to move out of his grip because I knew he was a time-bomb at the moment, just waiting to explode. 

The minutes went by in the slowest pace known to man, every tick of the clock feeling like an hour as the sun gradually started moving out of my view and towards the center of the sky. Noon was coming up, and I was starting to get worried. 

Maybe Austin wouldn’t let me go. Maybe I wouldn’t be home on time and Michael and the Monster would know that I hadn’t spent my day at home like I was supposed to. I didn’t want to think about the consequences; it was too much of a torture. 

Eventually, when the beams of sunlight were starting to poke at my nose again, indicating the start of the afternoon, Austin made a move to get up. He untangled himself from his position with an arm around my shoulders and pulled himself to his feet, walking over to the kitchen door and closed it after muttering a few words in Tino’s direction. 

“Do you want lunch?” Austin asked, unmoving gaze firmly directed toward a point somewhere above my shoulder, too far away for me to pinpoint. Anything not to have to look at me. 

“No, thank you,” I whispered. “I should get going.” 

A sudden flash of a pained expression crossed his face and remained there for a few seconds, until it was wiped off by an emotionless mask. “You really shouldn’t, Alan,” he replied quietly, even though he knew it was without avail. 

“I’m sorry, Austin,” I repeated one last time before starting to make my way past him and toward the exit of his small, homey apartment. 

“Please don’t be sorry,” he said, voice heavy and sagging. “Don’t you want to get out of there?” 

I turned on my heels, staring at the back of his head with an expression of sheer confusion obscuring my features. 

“Why would I want to get away from the only person that’s ever going to love me?” I asked, although I knew Austin wouldn’t know the answer. Because there was none – because I could never leave Michael, as much as I despised the Monster. 

I just shook my head and proceeded trudging out the apartment. 

“So you can start loving people that don’t share their body with a monster,” Austin called after me, just when I was about to slam the door shut behind me. I considered turning around and telling him that everyone, every single person in the world, had a monster to hide, but I decided against it and walked back to our apartment. 

~

The sun was already scratching at the horizon as the door slammed shut after Michael’s tired body. I could smell the bottom of the bottle on him, the Monster right behind the surface of his skin that was painted red by the threatening sunlight. 

“Alan!” It screamed, pushing Michael back behind his own eyes and taking his place. 

“Come here!”

I did as I was told, hastily jumping up from my sitting position on the sofa. The Monster was already waiting for me, eyes darkened in anger. 

Hunched over, head down and gaze low. Don’t look at it, don’t look. I closed my eyes. It wasn’t Michael. Michael would never do this to me. 

Michael loved me. 

As Its fists collided with my broken skin, I let out a scream for help. It tore my throat, ripping through my neck, but I didn’t stop. I just kept screaming for Michael to come back and save me. 

Save me from his own Monster.


	8. And I’m Just Sitting Here, Trying to Piece Myself Back Together

The days and nights went by in a blur. Not because time was passing so quickly, but because nothing appeared to change with the clock ticking away second after second. I didn’t see the sunlight seeping through the curtains; I didn’t even see my own feet that were poking out of the too short duvet. I didn’t see the sun wandering the sky, climbing up high and falling back down, didn’t see the hours rushing and pushing past. All I saw was the insides of my eyelids. I screwed my eyes shut tightly, did everything not to have to look at the new bruises adorning my skin, not to have to look at the fingerprint-shaped marks around my aching neck. I kept my eyes shut, hoping that the end of time would consume me finally. 

But the end didn’t come. 

My slightly dazed state ended when the door of our joint bedroom slammed open and the Monster walked in. I didn’t need to steal a glance to know who it was, I could tell by the way its angry footsteps were slamming against the dark wooden floor and eventually coming to a halt right next to where my head was laying on the flattened pillow with my orange hair sprawled all over the fabric like a fan.

I knew something was a bit off about the situation, but I couldn’t grasp it, right until the Monster spoke up. 

“Alan,” the Monster said with a loud voice, “I know you’re awake, and I’m leaving for work.” 

My eyes opened slowly. Something about the Monster and Michael’s appearance seemed so off, and I just couldn’t put my finger on it. It was odd, to say the least. 

“So do me a favor, and stop moping like a little kid,” It snapped. I looked closer, narrowing my eyes in another desperate attempt to find the mistake. 

And then it hit me. 

Grey irises. 

Grey, intelligent eyes. 

Michael’s eyes. 

But the voice so obviously belonged to the Monster – this was not Michael talking, no gentle, sweet words, no loving whispers. This was the Monster. 

But why was It wearing Michael’s skin now out of a sudden? Was It trying to gain my trust? Was this some new way to break me into little pieces? Or had the Monster now finally consumed the last bit of Michael? Had the last drop been the one that had caused the glass to overflow? 

“I want you to get off your ass and do something today, I’ve let you mope enough now,” It hissed, jaw tightening noticeably. 

I nodded, although I quickly stilled when sharp pain exploded in my neck at the sudden movement.

“Alright, see you in the evening,” It said and turned to leave. 

Just as It had reached the doorframe, It turned Its head one more time, looking at me with Michael’s face. “I love you,” he told me, then they both left for work. 

I slowly picked myself up from my lying position although every joint, bone, even inch of my body was in flames with pain. Goosebumps crawled up and down my skinny arms and pulled at the tiny hairs. My head was spinning as soon as I was trying to stand up straight, so I leaned against the wall to support my weight until the room finally stopped swimming and I could see clearly. 

Sunlight was scratching at my face, causing everything to itch, so I pushed the beams away, hiding from the traitor on the sky that had seen every little beating the Monster had given me and done nothing to stop It from eating away at Michael. 

Taking a shower turned out to be more of a challenge than I’d originally assumed, resulting in me sliding onto the cold floor of our bathroom and grasping my own arms in order to get them to stop itching and burning under the spray of hot water.

As I got up to try again, the burning of the soap on my skin almost caused me to tear up, but I managed to compose myself enough to finish cleaning my scarred flesh. 

After getting out of the bathroom, I lay on the sofa for a couple of hours, trying to keep my body from falling apart, but I didn’t manage. All my limbs were slowly sliding onto the floor, until only my weakly beating heart and my heavily breathing mouth were left. The sound of my pained moans bounced off the wall, trying to escape through tiny gaps in vain, even though it knew, and I knew, that there was no way to escape. We couldn’t get away from this hell. This was all I deserved, and I was pulling the innocent sound down with me. 

Eventually, I fell asleep, curling up into the cushions on the dark leather couch. 

~

The door slammed shut with a loud slam. As my eyes flew open at the dreaded sound, panic was already coursing through my veins, polluting and tarnishing my blood. I’d slept for six hours, maybe. Michael and the Monster wouldn’t be very pleased with me lazing around instead of doing something useful. Michael probably understood, but the Monster, oh no. The Monster was already angry with me for being so useless, but It probably would be furious if It saw me now. I silently prayed that Michael would still be there; that the Monster had yet to take control of his body. 

“Alan!” Michael’s warm, loving voice suddenly called out. 

I hesitantly got up from the couch and looked up to see Michael standing there; right in front of me. His eyes were red-rimmed, but they were colored in a light shade of grey, no trace of the Monster’s darkness. I let out a sigh of relief. 

“Are you feeling better?” he asked with a small smile. 

“Yes,” I replied quietly, “I’m fine.” Even though I wasn’t fine at all. My limbs were hurting and the bruises on my body had taken up a horribly greenish yellow whereas some were still dark purple and blue. Paired with the red scratches and wounds, it did kind of look like a very twisted version of a rainbow. 

He nodded approvingly. “That’s great,” he told me, gaze drifting off and sliding over every inch of the living room. “Now, I take it that you’ve slept all day again.” I nodded to confirm. “Could you please clean the apartment while I go out for dinner?” 

No. I couldn’t. Every inch of my body was on fire. 

“Yes,” I replied. 

I needed to start being more dutiful, really – Michael was out all day, earning money for me and him to have a decent life, and the only thing I ever did was laze around the apartment, unwilling and unable to do more. So I said yes, even though my body protested at even the thought of moving one muscle. I’d have to suck it up. 

“Good. I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

With that, Michael and the Monster walked out the front door. 

~

The clock had only just stroke nine when I had finished vacuuming the entire apartment and now was plopping down onto the soft, inviting couch. My eyes fell shut immediately. 

As much as I waited, though, sleep didn’t win over me. Every time I got close to falling into a light slumber, my thoughts sprang to the Monster and the events of this morning and all tiredness was gone within seconds. 

Panic was back in my system, and I was internally screaming. 

The Monster was so close to consuming Michael entirely, I could feel it. I could feel Its disgusting cigarette-breath washing over me, eating at Michael day by day by day. 

But it hadn’t always been like that. 

When I looked at Michael, I still saw the loving, sweet, gentle boy I’d met years ago. The person that had given me a place to live when my parents had kicked me out. I saw every single minute I had spent with this boy, every date he’d taken me on, every movie we’d watched, every time we’d made love. Michael just reminded me so much of himself that I couldn’t bring myself to leave him, even though I knew it was just a matter of time until the Monster wouldn’t be satisfied with lurking in the bottles Michael emptied to keep himself breathing. I knew that the Monster was striving for more, hoping to gain complete control over Michael one day. 

And I knew that the day would come: The day where the Monster would win. 

There would no longer be the grey, intelligent orbs I’d fallen in love with. They’d be replaced by the Monster’s dull, black eyes, looking at me like I was nothing but prey to them. 

~

I had been staring off into space for more than three hours now. I hadn’t always been like this – lifeless and lethargic – but somehow, all the color had drained from my existence. It was like my eyes saw in black and white now. 

The moon had wandered up onto the darkened sky, looking down at the world and wondering. The moon probably wondered a lot, considering it had to see all the bad things – nothing bad ever happened under the sun’s watch; the sun was bright and able to have its eye on everything and anything. But the moon, the moon shone in a mellow blue light, it couldn’t see shit. It was probably wondering what had driven humanity to be like this. Drowning their sorrows in a bottle that hid a Monster on its ground, letting a Monster take over their bodies and hurt the ones they loved. 

But maybe the Monster wasn’t a product of the bottles. Maybe the Monster had been hiding beneath Michael’s surface all along, waiting to get out. Maybe it had been me who had triggered all this. Maybe the Monster was my doing. 

Oh, who was I kidding?

I knew it was my fault. 

I didn’t make Michael happy enough. That was why he needed the liquid to keep him alive, to keep him from going insane on me. I was what had invited the Monster in, not the alcohol, not Michael himself. 

It was all my fault.

And that was why I needed to stay. 

Because Michael loved me and needed me, and I so desperately needed to save him from the Monster. 

~

When the door slammed open again, I was still lying on the couch, staring at the darkened ceiling and waiting for my beloved Michael to return. 

But oh, had it been a mistake. 

The Monster was back with all Its force, having broken down Michael’s façade until it now finally owned his entire body, not only his eyes and hands. 

That night, I just closed my eyes and got ready to endure everything the Monster would give me. After all, I didn’t deserve anything better. Its claws tore at my skin, scratching at the bruises. I was slammed against the headboard more times than I could count until my head started swimming in dizzying circles. Eventually, the Monster got tired of hitting me and started merely pounding into me with deafening force. 

After a while, I just went numb. I didn’t feel a thing anymore, I just switched all my senses off. The only thing I heard was some distant ringing sound that was constantly breaking into my ears while my eyes were still clenched shut, only black clouding my vision. 

Some part of me had known something was wrong all along. A feeling deep in my gut was yelling at me to get up and run, but I pushed it down violently, telling myself to stop being selfish and demanding – I couldn’t leave Michael alone with the Monster. Although something felt so insanely off, like everything had been turned upside down today. 

And I was soon to find out what this feeling was, what my gut had been trying to warn me about. 

“Open your eyes,” the Monster hissed into my ear. Smelly breath, stained with alcohol, hit my nose, curling its way up into my head and burying itself deeply in my memory.

I shook my head – it was more of a jerking movement, but the Monster would understand. I didn’t want to see Its dull, lifeless eyes staring down at me while slamming up into me over and over again, never stopping, never showing mercy. I wanted to lie quietly and let it happen. I’d rather die by the Monster’s hands than run away from Michael – the only one that loved me. 

“I said to open your eyes,” It repeated, viciously. 

I still wouldn’t budge. In childish rebellion, I was writhing and tossing and turning underneath the Monster, trying to worm my way out of its grip. 

And after a few more thrusts, I knew why my stomach had been telling me to run. 

Fingers grasped at my eyelids and pulled them apart, forcing me to them and look at the person hovering above me. All the movements stilled for a moment, everything was frozen in place. 

For a few seconds, I didn’t even notice something was off. 

Then it hit me. 

The eyes. 

They weren’t black. 

They weren’t dull. 

They weren’t staring down at me, filled with disgust, as if I was the dirt underneath their shoes. 

They were grey, looking at me like Romeo would look at Juliet, like Gerard would look at Frank, like my father would look at my mother. Like I was the most precious human being in their life, like I had fallen straight from heaven. 

They were Michael’s eyes. 

This was Michael.


	9. And Even If

Even if I closed my eyes, the light was agonizing. Everything felt so surreal that day – the lights were too bright, too shiny, the sounds were muffled. It was all dimmed down until I hardly recognized anything, and if I did, I was met with shocks of headaches. I was reminded strongly of my teenage days, when I would get drunk with my friends and wake up at someone’s house, completely hung over and absolutely at peace with the world. I was reminded of the days where I would come home from school to my parents listening to jazz in the living room with the smell of freshly cooked hot food awaiting me in the kitchen. I was reminded of the days where everything was still easy, simple. 

Even if I tried to keep my eyes shut as long as possible, I had to open them at some point and look at everything in front of me. Hours had passed and the ceiling was dark now, the small city lights that had managed to seep through the curtains were now dancing across the cracked surface, jumping around and mocking me with their freedom. 

I felt something warm curled up next to my arm, with its body fitted around me safely. That was what had woken me up, I concluded. My body didn’t want to be close to this person, even though my heart told me to stay. I loved him and he loved me, but the Monster was trying to keep us apart. 

Even if we were star-crossed lovers, we were lovers nonetheless. 

As the hours passed, I wondered if this was what insanity felt like. It had somewhat of a poetic, if not romantic aspect to it – loving the person that would certainly be the death of you. I didn’t love the pain, though, I loved everything that the pain bore. I loved Michael, I loved Michael’s smile, I loved these moments of safety and security that only he could give me. It was poetic how I loved every dwindling piece of the Michael I had fallen in love with, the Michael that the Monster was slowly but surely pulling into the pits of hell. 

And then, for the first time in my life, I looked at the door. I didn’t look at it like it was my protection from the outside world, I looked at it like it was what it truly was: the only way in and out. For the first time in years, I contemplated acting selfishly and leaving Michael alone with the Monster. It could be so easy, I could just pack up all my belongings while Michael and the Monster were at work and run away. Run away…run away where to? 

Where would I go? Would I go crawling back to my parents, when they’d most certainly be smugly telling me that they’d known from the start that Michael was no good?

No. 

I couldn’t leave. The Monster would find me, and it would show no mercy. 

Michael remained the only person that loved me, and even if it meant my death, I would stay with him. 

~

A timid knock on the door. 

I rolled over to face the window to give myself an idea of what time it could be. When I opened my hesitant eyes, I immediately felt the sunlight burning into my bruises. From the looks of it, it might’ve been around noon, but I could’ve been wrong. 

Eventually, I picked myself up from the bed and walked out of the room into the hall, where someone’s constant knocking on the door could still be heard. I didn’t even dare to look into the mirror, I just opened the door and peered through a tiny gap, promptly being met with Austin’s concerned gaze. 

“Alan,” he said. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, maybe to try and calm down his nerves. Funny, how he would be nervous turning up at my doorstep and asking me to drop my life and run away from the only one that would ever love me. “Can I come in?” he asked casually. 

I gulped. “I don’t know,” I replied wearily. “I was sleeping, Austin, and I’m still kind of tired. Can you maybe come back later?” 

He let out a deep sigh. “Alan, don’t try bullshitting me, at least let me look at your fucking wounds,” he demanded. 

I groaned in defeat. “Alright. But can we please go to your apartment?” 

After hesitating for a second, he nodded curtly. I unlocked the door, still not bothering to check my appearance and followed Austin over to his apartment. 

Tino had already left, so the living room was empty. A mean, selfish part of me was glad that he wasn’t there – one less person I’d have to explain myself to. Austin motioned for me to sit down on the couch while he walked over to the bathroom to get his first aid kit. 

During the process of cleaning my wounds, Austin let an uncomfortable silence fall upon us. I couldn’t fathom a reason as to why, really - he’d wanted to see me so urgently that I would’ve thought he’d have something important to say to me. I, however, had no idea what to tell him, so I kept my mouth just as shut as his was and tried to remain focused. Focused on what, I didn’t know, but I needed to keep my brain busy while the alcohol burnt into the open scratches and cuts on my back that Austin had revealed by pulling up my t-shirt. 

Yet again, as my thoughts wandered, they halted at the subject I had tried avoiding ever since it had first crossed my mind. 

Running. 

I could still run away from the Monster, start a new life somewhere else. Maybe I could even go to college and get a real job someday. Maybe I could live a peaceful life until the end. I could live a life far away from all the dangers that the Monster bore, I could finally be my own person instead of a shadow for Michael. I only had to make one sacrifice. I’d only have to leave my lifeline, my one and only. 

Despite all the tempting advantages of making a run for it, I would have to spend my days without the person that loved me most. Even though Michael had something hiding beneath his surface of perfect smiles with white, flashing teeth and storm-gray eyes, he still remained the love of my life. He still remained the one and only person that had pulled me out of my own personal hell; the one that had saved me when no one else had wanted me. 

No, I decided. I could never run away, even if it meant my death. 

Even if I could find a way to survive without Michael, there would be no point in living. 

There never is a point in living if there is nothing to die for. 

You have never loved if something didn’t kill you from the inside. 

~

After he’d finished cleaning all the wounds on my body, Austin and I were drinking coffee in a silence full of pressure and unsaid accusations. Accusations that were hovering above us threateningly, like the sword of Damocles, the thin thread made from horse’s hair barely holding the blade that was inching closer and closer to our necks with every second that we spent not speaking these words out loud. 

We just remained quiet, sunken deep into our own thoughts, staring off into space and occasionally taking sips from the steaming hot coffee mugs in front of us. The minutes and hours passed, leaving us both to nothing but our own minds, until the sky was starting to go orange around the edges.

“I have to leave,” I announced and got up from the sofa, not quite feeling brave enough to give Austin another look as I started heaving myself off the sofa and starting to walk away. Just when I was about to open the door and leave the protective warmth of Austin and his apartment, the sound of a high, raspy voice emerged from the living room behind me. It sounded so soft, so broken when he spoke. Every word reflected off the silence and multiplied in volume; it felt like he was screaming even though his words had barely been above a whisper. 

“Please stay, Alan.”

And honestly, never before in my life had three words gotten my heart beating so fast. 

“Why?” I asked, because it was the first thing that crossed my mind in my state. I now turned around to look at him and my eyes almost teared up at the sight of this huge, broken man. His eyes were round and so sad in a paralyzing way – I couldn’t tear myself away. 

“So you can start loving people that don’t share their body with a Monster,” he explained with a small smile. The smile, however, didn’t reach his eyes. It looked so forced, so surreal, so offensively insincere that I felt myself growing angrier by the second. 

Part of me had already expected this question to be answered this way – I remembered what Austin had said mere days ago all too well. Even though I’d heard this before, it took me a long time to find a reply. 

“But what if no one else loves me, and I can’t love anyone else?” I asked. 

“Then you’re a coward,” Austin explained curtly, angrily. My nostrils flared, but I immediately shoved down the anger welling up, replacing it with harsh objectivity. I couldn’t let Austin win this one – he’d think he’d been right to tell me these things. Therefore, I turned away, taking one deep breath after another, until I could say that I’d effectively calmed down completely. 

“Why does it make me a coward to know what I deserve?” I continued with a blank expression matching my dull, emotionless voice. The wall didn’t seem too impressed with my statement, but I still refused to turn around and look at Austin. 

“Because if you were brave, you’d know that no one deserves this shitty excuse of a boyfriend,” he said, slow anger wandering onto his usually so friendly and sunny features. “No one deserves a drunk that beats the shit out of them on a daily basis, no one deserves to be put down like this.” He took a deep breath before continuing, as if to calm himself down. “No one deserves to be killed and forced back to life every single day.” 

I gulped. “I could run away,” I said. “I could’ve run away on so many occasions.” I turned around to face Austin, who was now standing right in front of me. I hadn’t noticed him getting up and walking towards me, but I had been so focused on my own breathing that I wasn’t even surprised. “And I didn’t,” I continued, “That’s why I deserve it.” 

He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t actually believe that shit,” he snapped. “That’s absolute crap. You know why you didn’t run away? Cause you didn’t think you’d have anywhere to go. And you know what? Now you have somewhere to go.” 

I raised my eyebrows at him. 

“Where Austin?” I asked loudly, spreading my arms and giving a cynical chuckle. “Where the fuck would I go, and who would even want me?” 

“I already told you.” 

“Already told me what?” 

“Please stay, Alan.” 

I gulped. As I said, never before in my life had three words gotten my heart beating that fast. 

~

It’s just so fucking easy to lose it after a while. 

I was sitting on the edge of the banister of our balcony, smoking yet another cigarette and hoping for the sun to finally disappear behind the slowly blurring shapes of traffic lights changing their color and brake lights crawling through the streets slowly. Silently, I was contemplating, but I knew I would never jump. As Austin had said, I was a coward. 

Even if it wasn’t going to happen, it was still a nice thought to play with. Just a single jump, only letting go of the banister, and it could all be over. I could be somewhere else, a place without monsters, a place without the Monster. 

It could be so easy. 

As I saw yet another bit of ash tumbling towards the ground that was ten stories away from my feet, I silently shook my head at myself. The cigarette in my hand was slowly ceasing unnoticed, the fire gradually burning its way through the filter because I’d forgotten about its existence. A small breeze had picked up, fueling the tiny flaming ashes and giving them just the slightest bit of hope that they wouldn’t be gone in a few minutes. If they didn’t have anything, they still had hope, I figured. A deep sigh emerged from my throat and mingled with the warm air. Why did fire have more hope than I did? Why was everything and everyone free and enjoying their lives, except for me? 

No, I scolded myself, I had a good life. There were so many people who had it way worse than me, people with actual problems – starvation, death, poverty – and as a white male in the nicer part of LA’s suburbs, I couldn’t say that I’d ever been met with actual affliction. If anything, I was lucky. If I hadn’t met Michael and the inevitable Monster, I’d maybe be living on the street now. Or, a small voice in the corner of my head said, I could be going to college, still hanging out with my friends and living with my parents. 

I shook my head yet again. 

All those thoughts were going to be the death of me one day.


	10. I'll Eat Your Heart, I'm a Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title credit: Of Mice and Men - I'm a Monster

The Monster was there. I saw Its nostrils flaring up with every breath It took, chest rapidly inflating and vacating. But Its voice was gone. I heard Michael speaking, confessing his undying love for me, and I saw the Monster’s eyes, boring into mine with the same lifeless, dull anger they showed every time they tore me up and put me back together. It was the Monster’s hands grabbing at me and slamming me against the wall, the Monster’s nails digging into my skin.

Another punch.

Another kick.

Another thrust. 

Another scar that no one would be able to see. 

Another scar in my head. 

I closed my eyes, silent tears escaping them as I let it all happen, unable to watch the black eyes staring down at me with nothing but disgust. Pure disgust, like I was unworthy of even this treatment. 

“Open your eyes, love,” Michael whispered into my ear. 

I felt myself being tricked into thinking that the Monster had gone away, that this was Michael pounding into me quickly – that this was love, not mere friction between two   
heavy, sweating bodies. So I reluctantly pulled my eyes open, only to be met with a pair of grey, intelligent stormy eyes looking down at me adoringly. 

Michael’s eyes. 

The dam had now broken into millions of shards until tears were flowing freely, wetting my cheeks, my bare chest, my dull hair. This was Michael.

“I love you, Alan,” he whispered into my ear. I shook my head, as if I were not accepting what he was saying, to shake the memory of this out of my mind. But I couldn’t. I had to remember this. It was now burnt into my thoughts, never leaving, never leaving me alone. Haunting me forever. 

This was Michael hurting me. 

~

I hadn’t noticed it stopping. I hadn’t realized the Monster and Michael were pulling out and leaving, leaving me to my own fate. 

Blood was seeping through my hair, I could feel it wetting the stained sheets underneath me. Flowing from countless wounds. My body was left broken and weak, with every color drained from it, nothing left but bright bruises and cuts and open wounds. 

And that was when I heard it. 

The fast knocks, like knuckles rapping the wooden surface; panicked and angry. 

The front door opening. 

The voices. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Michael’s and the Monster’s voices asked together. They were no longer separated, they were melted into one, a dark voice with too many shadows. It was like there were truly two people talking, the man who’d taught me to get away from my high school friends – the high school friends that were doing nothing but warning me about leaving – and the Monster that exploited me every single day. 

“I want to talk to Alan,” another voice replied. It was a quiet, calm tone with a smoky scent lingering around it. I could’ve picked this person out of a crowd of thousands just by his voice. 

“You have no right to be here, get the fuck out of my apartment,” They replied venomously. It was a weird mixture. A high, lovely voice that had spoken so many sweet words was now spitting every single sentence like it was the worst insult ever, hissing deeply at the person in front of Them. 

“Let me talk to him,” Austin demanded emphatically. I could tell by the sound of his words that anger was slowly sneaking up on him, which wasn’t a very common thing for a person like Austin, sweet and loving, not wanting to hurt anyone, gentle and kind.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” They growled at him. I could almost see Their darkening eyes in front of me.

“I think he can decide that for himself,” a third voice said sternly. I vaguely recognized it as Tino’s, but it could have been someone else too. 

I closed my eyes and pulled the covers over my head. I didn’t want to hear this. 

~

I turned around to give Tino and Phil a panicked look. What was I supposed to do? Just walk past him and go look for Alan myself? I couldn’t do that, it would be illegal! 

“If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the cops on you,” Alan’s boyfriend threatened. Frankly, he seemed quite intimidating. He was maybe a little shorter than me, with chocolate colored hair covering one of his grey, intelligent eyes. Broad shoulders towered over me, with thin albeit brawny arms attached to them, brawny enough for me to not want to get into a fight with him ever again. 

“And tell them what?” Tino asked from behind me. “That we wanted to keep you from beating your boyfriend to death?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now get the fuck away from me,” the man demanded, taking a step back and reaching for the door handle to lock us out, but I was faster than him, slipping my foot into the gap between the door and the frame. The slam of a wooden door against the instep of my foot was painful, but not painful enough for me to surrender and withdraw it. 

“Not so fast, Mikey,” I said, with sudden confidence causing my tall, lanky body to grow a bit more. “Let us talk to Alan,” I demanded one more time. 

Then, out of nowhere, the door slammed open again completely, with Michael staring at us with widened eyes. But Michael wasn’t alone anymore. There was a small figure standing right next to him, with a blanket wrapped around their narrow shoulders and blood thickening their once so fiery red and now dully orange hair. 

“What is going on here?” Alan asked with the most quiet, most heartbreaking voice I had ever heard in my entire life. 

~

“Oh my fucking –,” Austin cut himself off to take a deep breath. “Alan, you need to go to the hospital!” he exclaimed suddenly, causing sharp pain to shoot through my skull at the raised voice. 

“Alan, I told you to stay in bed,” Michael and the Monster told me with Michael plastered onto their motionless face. I felt a warm hand grab my cold one, pulling my freezing body into a hot one. I went on autopilot, not doing anything while getting closer and closer to Their chest. 

“I didn’t hear,” I replied quietly, trying to shift away from Them a little bit – of course, that didn’t go unnoticed by Austin. 

“Of course you didn’t, you were probably passed out!” Austin yelled with sheer desperation written onto his features. 

“Austin,” I nearly whined, “I’m fine, please just go.” 

He shook his head. “No, I’m not _just going_ ,” he hissed. “You’re coming with us, I’m not leaving you with this piece of shit!” Michael’s and the Monster’s grip was digging into my arms, short fingernails dragging over the bruised skin. I forced myself not to jerk away, but a small flinch was still visible, probably. It didn’t matter anyway, because I was starting to grow aggravated with this stupid fight. 

“I love this piece of shit!” I screamed on top of my lungs. Dizziness immediately overcame me at the loud yelling, which had me lean against the doorframe for support right after freeing myself out of Michael’s and the Monster’s grip. “I love him, and he loves me. Now go away!” I added quietly. 

Austin once again shook his head in disbelief. “Alan, you can’t love this guy. He can’t love you either if he keeps beating the shit out of you!” 

Pang.

It’s that easy, really. It’s so easy to kill someone with words, to just shoot them down, to just throw a diamond bullet made of letters in their direction and hope for the worst. I felt pain welling up at his words, such agonizing pain. The bullet hole bled, I bled like a pig at the slaughter house. 

Austin had shot me with his words. 

And without my permission, my brain started running on overdrive, going through all the possibilities – what could happen if, what would Michael do if, what should I do if?

I started doubting Michael. I started doubting what I’d taken so long to drill into my brain. Maybe the Monster wasn’t my fault. Maybe it hadn’t been my fault that It had taken over his body, his thoughts. Maybe the Monster really was a product of the bottles that were littering the kitchen floor, the living room, hell, even the bathroom. Maybe Michael just kept me around for fun. Maybe he just needed a punching bag. Maybe he just needed someone to take his anger out on. 

Or, a small voice in the back of my head replied, he didn’t want all this. Maybe he really did love me and felt bad for hurting me over and over again. Maybe he’d turned to the bottles due to this awful guilt staring right back at him every time he looked in the mirror. The two voices inside my head were fighting each other, trying to prove themselves right, but it just turned into a never-ending battle. 

I needed to find out. I needed to know why he was doing this. 

With the last tiny bit of strength I could muster I looked up at Michael and the Monster, looked into Their pair of dull, lifeless, intelligent storm-grey and black eyes. My voice came out barely above a croaked whisper as I finally got up the courage to ask the one question that mattered. 

“Do you love me, Michael?” 

Then I passed out. 

~

“Yes,” he replied softly, pulling me into his warm, inviting arms. 

At first, I struggled against his grip and desperately tried getting away, but he held me close and caused me to give in eventually. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered into my ear.

If this had been a movie or a book, my heart would have started beating at an enormously quick rate, beat up to my throat and caused my lips to spread with the widest, most amazing smile. The Monster would have disappeared for good and I would have rediscovered my undying love for Michael who would no longer have to drown his sorrows in a bottle. We would have lived happily ever after and Austin would have left us alone. Austin would have minded his own business, Austin would have found someone else to save. 

But this wasn’t a movie. 

My heart stopped for a second. But it didn’t stop from the excitement that had been supposed to well up at his muttered words. It stopped because of the rush of fear and pain in my blood. Everything was so loud, I couldn’t hear a thing as he tried to pull me close to plant a kiss on my chapped lips. 

Then the scene reset. 

~

“No,” he answered honestly, pulling away slightly. 

If this were a movie or a book, I would have sunken to the ground on the verge of tears, begging him to tell me what I’d done wrong. I would have sworn that I was going to try to be better this time, to not push him away, to not force a Monster out of his eyes. I would have begged him to stay.

But this wasn’t a movie.

I merely nodded, shyly taking a step away. Suddenly, I fell on my back, hitting the ground again and I was back in the ambulance car, with a blurred figure sitting next to me and holding my hand in theirs. 

“Please stay, Alan,” someone whispered next to me, “Please stay with me.”

And then my vision went completely black, the dreams swimming away with it.


	11. Get Me out of My Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title credit: _Thnks Fr Th Mmrs_ by Fall Out Boy   
>  thanks for reading guys :)

The cold burn of a needle breaking through my skin. Cold liquid lazily trickling into my blood. The steady beeping of foreign machinery. White walls. White ceiling. The inside of my eyes. White, white, white. Everything white. The sound of two voices. Maybe fighting. Maybe yelling. Maybe screaming. Confusion laying heavily on my mind. Pain, everywhere. Everywhere just pain. All I felt was pain. Nothing else, just pain. In my arms, in my stomach, in my legs, in my head. Pain, pain, pain. Everything hurt. Didn’t see anything. Everything white. Pain. 

I passed out. 

~

I could hear the quiet, yet nervous tapping of a foot next to me. A warm, soft hand was holding my cold one, drawing invisible patterns on my palm absentmindedly, impatiently waiting for something. 

“Oh shit, Alan,” a voice whispered. It didn’t sound like the Monster’s, or Michael’s, for that matter. “Please wake up,” it begged. 

Suddenly, something wet and cold hit my hand, staining it with salty water and drawing across the cracked, dry skin. Water? A tear? Who would cry for a person like me? Who would cry if I disappeared? 

“Please stay, Alan,” the voice whispered. More tears hit my hand. 

I passed out. 

~

I was alone when I awoke the next time. It was dark inside the white, sterile room, and I was grateful for that. Maybe it was night, or maybe someone had finally considered my perspective and flicked off the lights so I wouldn’t instantly be blinded. After some time, I managed to pry my eyes open and take in my surroundings. White walls, white ceiling. Shadows dancing over the white, tinting it in a grayer tone. Another hospital, I figured. Like the pathetic excuse for a human being that I was. I needed to be hospitalized more times than anyone should be able to count. Disgraceful.

Moonlight was shining against the thick window, but it didn’t find a way to sneak into the room, instead it stayed outside like the traitor it was. I could vaguely make out a tiny bit of orange around the edges of the horizon, indicating the slow rise of the sun that I was secretly dreading. The beginning of another day meant another scar. 

There was a hesitant tap on the door, so I closed my eyes again and pretended to be asleep. I knew there was no way I could fool a doctor or a nurse, but hopefully, the Monster and Michael wouldn’t call my bluff. 

I could hear the door opening, someone walking inside and sitting down next to me on the bed. Yet again, the soft warmth of another hand embraced mine, causing my eyes to fly wide open in a sudden rush of panic. 

“Alan!” Austin immediately exclaimed, face lighting up with a grin that would’ve been able to make the saddest person on earth laugh just a tiny bit. 

“Austin,” I merely croaked, unable to say anything more as my throat was completely dry. It felt like I hadn’t drank anything in the last few days, it was so dried out. 

If I looked close enough, I could see a small tear forming in Austin’s eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was a tear of joy or of sadness.

“Where’s –,” I tried saying, but cut myself off coughing drougtily. “Where’s Michael?”

Austin’s smile dropped immediately. “Let’s not talk about him. Are you feeling better?” He asked, putting on a face that suspiciously looked like a façade. 

“Austin,” I said, putting emphasis on every single syllable. He knew what I wanted, and I wasn’t going to let him play any games with me. 

“Let’s talk about this when you can speak without having to cough up your lungs after every word, okay?” He looked down at me with the most ridiculously hopeful expression. Eventually, I forced myself to nod reluctantly. “Now,” he continued, “You should get some sleep. The doctors said there’s no way they’ll be letting you out of here until Thursday next week, so you might as well make good use of the timeout and sleep tight so you won’t have to deal with the pain.” 

I nodded again, noting that he did have a point. I’d ask him about Michael and the Monster again when I would be able to talk properly. 

Austin called a nurse and she gave me a couple of sleeping pills, accompanied by a pitiful smile. 

The last thing I saw was Austin’s worried frown, and a small tear escaping one of his eyes. 

I passed out. 

~

The next time I woke up, Austin, Tino and a guy I didn’t recognize were sitting on the uncomfortable plastic chairs near my bed, talking with hushed voices, quietly enough so I couldn’t decipher a clear word of what they were saying. It took them a while to register that I was already awake, but when they did, their quiet chatter immediately subsided, making it more than obvious that they’d been talking about me. 

“Hey!” Tino suddenly exclaimed. “The sleeping beauty’s awake!” 

Three heads turned, and a smile – bright as the sun – spread across Austin’s face. 

“Alan! How are you feeling?” he asked. 

“Better,” I replied honestly. Either they’d given me the really good painkillers or the wound on my head had started to heal. I suppose it was a bit of both. 

“That’s great!” Austin exclaimed a little too excitedly, smile widening impossibly. “Oh, and this is my boss Phil,” he introduced the third guy. Phil was tall, with dark locks of hair curling around his shoulders and a laid-back, bordering-on-stoned smile on his tan face. 

“Hi Alan,” Phil said, grinning and flashing two rows of white, shiny teeth. 

“You’re Austin’s boss?” I asked, frowning slightly. 

“Yeah, Phil owns the record store I work at. He doesn’t seem to have a problem with me ditching work for a week so I can make sure you’re okay,” Austin explained in one confusingly long breath. 

I raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, because that was the only thing I could do without having to deal with sharp surging pain, and sat up a bit to look at my visitors properly. Suddenly, what Austin had said hit me. 

“Wait, for how long have I been out cold?” I asked, secretly already fearing the answer to that question. 

“Four days,” Austin said calmly, as if it were no big deal. 

“What?” I asked, a panicked edge slowly sneaking into my voice. 

The machine next to my bed started beeping like crazy at my fastened heartbeat, and soon enough the door slammed open and a nurse ran in, heading straight for my bed and thrusting a plastic cup filled with pills into my hand. 

“I’m sorry that we always have to knock you out, honey,” she said, “But at least it won’t hurt that much when your wounds heal.” 

I nodded slowly and choked down the pills under her pitiful watch. 

I passed out. 

~

It turned into the most tiring routine you can imagine. Waking up at some time of the day, exchanging a few words with either Tino or Austin or Phil and being knocked out right away by a nurse with a sad smile on her face. 

Days and nights went by without me noticing how much time had actually passed. 

But one day stood out.

I woke up to the sound of loud beeping, but not the kind of beeping that came from the machine beside my bed. A different beeping, like it was coming from the same kind of machine, but it was standing on the other end of the room. Seconds later, I heard wheels scratching on the dingy hospital floor. Muffled voices speaking. Someone yelling at someone else, screaming profanities from the top of their lungs. 

I passed out. 

~

“No!” someone yelled.

I desperately tried forcing myself back into the heavy slumber I’d been hanging on to for the past days, but part of me already knew that that wasn’t going to happen – it was time to wake up now. 

“No!” Another yell sounded through the small room. 

“For fuck’s sake, could you please be quiet?” another voice snarled, sounding impatient and angry. I knew the voice, and I was already so used to hearing it when I was still half blacked out or on heavy pain medication, so it took me mere seconds to figure out that it belonged to Austin. 

“You shut the fuck up!” the first voice yelled, high and shrill. 

“Stop it, he’s fucking sleeping!” Austin replied. 

“So what? He’s been sleeping for days, wake the guy up so I can have the room to myself.” 

I was mostly sure that I didn’t know the person talking, although if I had, they wouldn’t have been my friend anyway. The sneaky anger behind my eyes was what made me slowly open them and look around, blinking against the bright light that seemed to be reflecting off the white hospital walls. 

“Alan!” Austin exclaimed suddenly, looking at me with a face like a child that had just convinced their mother to buy them candy at the store. 

“Finally, the lovers are reunited,” a bitter voice annotated from the bed next to mine. I couldn’t turn my head to see who it was, and to be honest, I didn’t want to know. He didn’t seem like the most pleasant person. 

Ignoring the nasty remark, Austin grinned at me and sat down on the bed, placing himself near my arm. I could see him twitching toward my hand, but quickly jerk back in order not to scare me. “How are you feeling?” he asked. 

“Alright, I guess. Please just don’t let them knock me out again, I’ve had the most fucked up trips,” I begged. Austin let out a small laugh; one of these snickers that you can’t help but return. 

“You’re an idiot,” he told me. Then he added in a quieter voice, “They said they’ll be releasing you in a couple of days. They just need to check if you’re healing alright, then you’re going to get the good painkillers and I can take you home.” 

I nodded, when another thought crossed my mind. I immediately hit myself for not thinking about this earlier. I should’ve. It should’ve been the first thing on my mind the second I’d woken up. “Austin, where’s Michael?” I asked intently. 

Austin didn’t answer my question right away. At first, he wasted some time by clearing his throat and taking a couple of deep breaths. “Uhm, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea to-”

“Austin, for fuck’s sake, just tell him to come see me,” I demanded. My voice was explosive – for a second, I was astounded at the amount of anger in a simple sentence. But it didn’t stop there, I was so incredibly angry. 

“Alan,” he said, sounding almost sad, “Really, let’s not have this conversation now.” 

“ _Austin_ ,” I snarled, putting emphasis on every single letter. “Tell me.” 

“I don’t-,” he started, but cut himself off with a loud sigh and a cough. “I don’t know where he is, Alan,” he admitted quietly. 

“What?” I asked, completely dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“He left you, you fucking idiot,” the other boy exclaimed. He sounded sad and angry and bitter, and for a second, I wondered if anyone had even visited him. It was only for the blink of an eye, however, and my focus quickly moved back to Austin’s saddened expression. 

My eyes grew wide as I realized the gravity of what had just been spoken out loud. “Is it true?” 

“It’s…”

“Austin, _is it true_?” I repeated vigorously. 

He sucked in a deep breath. “Yes, Alan, it is,” he finally replied. “Michael left.”

I didn’t pass out.


	12. Where are You? And I'm so Sorry!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title credit: _I Miss You_ by Blink-182  
>  xo M

I couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in my ears. It wasn’t the ‘ocean’ kind of swoosh; it sounded like static, like I was speaking to Austin through a phone with bad reception. Like nothing that I said would arrive, nothing would make it through the line. No matter how loudly I would yell, was caught in this tunnel, screaming into the speaker yet nothing came through. 

“What?” I asked. Sweat was dripping down my forehead in thick beads, crawling into my ears and making it even harder to understand anything. Something was clouding my vision also; it felt suspiciously like a curtain of tears. Austin’s lips moved, but I couldn’t hear a thing they were saying. 

But suddenly, the tunnel spat me out. Every noise died down, the static ceased and all I could hear was Austin’s voice. ‘I don’t know where he is,’ my brain supplied. ‘He’s gone’. Everyone was gone. Everyone was leaving me to my own fate. 

‘I don’t know where he is’. 

Suddenly, the never-ending circle of Austin was interrupted by no one but Austin himself. His voice bounced off the walls until it multiplied, hitting me with full force. 

“He, uhm,” Austin spoke, clearing his throat uncomfortably. I saw his Adam’s apple jumping up and down curtly as he swallowed. “He left after you…asked him the question.” 

I blinked at him. Even though I had heard all the words, they didn’t make sense to me, my brain couldn’t string them together. “He what?” I repeated sluggishly. 

“Michael left,” he said.

Remember when I said that you can easily shoot someone with words? 

That was one of those moments. 

My heart skipped more than a beat, more than two beats. My heart skipped at least three beats and my breath didn’t catch in my throat, no, it caught in my stomach. It was like the world had just stopped moving around me, like every single person on earth would look at me and say what everyone had been thinking all along:   
_’Alan, you are a pathetic excuse for a human being,’_ they said. 

And they were right. I was pathetic. I couldn’t even manage to get the only person, the last person that had ever loved me just the way I was, to stay with me – instead I’d pushed him away until he couldn’t take it anymore. I shot up into a straight, sitting position and looked at Austin, who had a saddened expression on his face. He was probably thinking up elaborate ways to get out of this without having to confront me about it, without having to actually tell me that he thought I was a disgrace. 

I was going to be left alone – again. 

“Alan,” he started, but I cut him off, unable to take any more empty promises. “No, Austin,” I said quietly, “Just go. I know what you’re going to say.” 

“What?” he asked. He looked harried, like he had failed to grasp what I was so mad and broken up about. “Alan, I was going to tell you that I’m not going to leave you-”

“And that’s why I’m telling you to shut up,” I interjected. My voice felt unsteady, like it could fail met any second now. “You’re just like him. You’re going to play it nice, until I fall for your stupid masquerade and let myself love you as much as I loved Michael. And then you’re going to tell me that you love me too, make me believe it.” I took a deep breath. I’d talked myself into a rage, and by now I was unable to bring myself down from this insane anger that had possessed me. “And then, step by step, you’re going to show your real face. The Monster behind your eyes is going to come out. And It’s going to kill me slowly, almost beating me to death while telling me It loves me.” It took me all the courage I could muster to force myself to look up at Austin, who was staring at me, wide-eyed and utterly panicked. “Gradually, you’re going to put me through all the pain in the world, until I’m close to begging for death. And then,” I finished, “You’re going to leave me alone. Just like he did.” I swallowed at the lump in my throat, but it was neither budging nor moving. “Because no one wants me, not even a fucking monster,” I added. I hadn’t meant for it to sound as venomous as it did, but somehow, I couldn’t help the desperate anger that had slowly snuck up on me and was now choking me so slowly. 

Austin buried his face in his hands, not meeting my gaze for the next minute or so. When he finally managed to look back up, I had averted my eyes. I felt too ashamed of my outburst to even look at him – that was how pathetic I was. 

“Alan, every person hides a monster,” he said eventually. Something inside me screamed. 

“Yes,” I choked out, “I know, but I always bring out the worst in people. I always hurt the ones I fall in love with.” 

“But you only fell in love with Michael,” he said.

“Yeah, but it’s only a matter of time until I fall for you,” I confessed blankly. 

“Alan,” he said quietly, “I’m not Michael. The monster I hide is safely locked up in a cage where you’ll never have to see it.” 

“No!” I exclaimed, “That’s bullshit!” Angrily ripping all the needles out of my arms, I stood up from the bed and started walking towards the door, trying to escape, trying to get them all to shut up. Even though my legs felt weak enough for me to fall down and lose all ability to carry on. 

“Alan!” he called after me, “Lay back down or I’ll get the nurse to knock you out again!” 

“Leave me alone, Austin!” I screamed. 

A few nurses and doctors looked up from their work in the hall, but didn’t show any particular interest. These things seemed to happen quite often in shitty hospitals in an even shittier part of Los Angeles. 

“Nurse!” Austin suddenly hollered.

Soon, a lady in blue scrubs appeared and somehow managed to coax me into lying back down on my bed. She later returned with the familiar IV filled with sedatives, accompanied by a doctor who swiftly plugged all the needles back in while I was already swimming in drowsiness from the medication. 

I passed out. 

~

“You’re a fucking idiot,” was the statement I woke up to. 

I replied with merely a groan because I felt that I couldn’t muster up anything more articulate. 

“No really, you’re the stupidest person I’ve ever met,” the voice continued. I slowly opened one of my eyes to see my new roommate looking at me with an expression that implied that he actually didn’t give a crap about me – he was only speaking to me for the kicks. 

“Why?” I croaked out. Where was Austin? Had he already left? Had he given up on letting me down easy? 

“Look dude, I don’t know what happened between you and that Michael guy, but it sounds like it wasn’t too great,” said my roommate. I’d forgotten that he was even there, but now his voice hit me with full force. “But that Austin dude’s been sitting here and staring at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him every single fucking minute since I got in here, so you should maybe start appreciating it.” 

I shook my head in a desperate attempt to get him to stop. “Shut up,” I almost begged. 

“No, I’m not going to shut up.” He gave me an angry stare. “That guy loves you, and you love him. He’s not going to be like Michael, you know that.” 

I kept shaking my head, as if to erase the memory of this conversation from my mind. 

“You’re just being a pussy because you know that if you let Austin in, you’re going to have to be fine.” 

“No,” I whispered, “Stop it.” 

“No, I’m not going to stop it, for fuck’s sake! Listen to me! Austin loves you, you love Austin. Why are you freaking out?” 

“Because I can’t love him!” I screamed at the guy, the guy whose name was still a mystery to me. “I can’t love him, he’ll show me his Monster.” 

“What is this ‘Monster’ shit?” he asked. “Oh, you know what? Whatever, I’m going back to sleep. Fuck up your life all you want.” 

I shook my head. 

I didn’t pass out. 

~

Hours went by. I lay still on the hospital bed, not moving while my head was running in…well, not circles, but maybe ellipses. Maybe triangles. I was sick of trying to find a way to describe the intricate pattern of my unintelligible thoughts, to be entirely honest. 

I didn’t even know this guy’s name, yet he’d told me exactly how to handle my own life. 

I was way past wondering what had driven him to think that he had any right whatsoever to tell me what to do; I just kept asking myself if he might have had a point. 

I was sunken so deeply into my dark, grasping thoughts that I didn’t notice the door slamming open and Austin walking in. He let out a deep sigh and took his accustomed place right beside my bed. Even though he knew I was awake, he didn’t say anything. The silence that followed for the next hour was deafening. 

No word was spoken, every breath reflected off the white, blank walls. The shitty clock dangling dangerously on the wall right above my head was ticking away seconds, minutes, hours. 

And then Austin spoke up.

“You’re going to be discharged in a few days,” he told me, a small smile curling around the corners of his mouth. I nodded, merely to let him know that I’d understood. 

I’d go back home, back to this fucking cave where I’d be alone with my memories, alone with my thoughts. 

Alone with my own Monster.

And this time, I wouldn’t have Michael to remind me of the good things in my life. 

“Oh my God, just fucking kiss and make up already,” my lovely roommate intervened, only to be ignored skillfully by both of us. 

Austin looked down at me for a long time, and as much as I tried to avoid his gaze, it still landed on my pair of yet again fear-filled, blown up brown eyes again and again. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he informed me eventually. 

I had to restrain myself from bursting into laughter, because that was just something Austin would say in situations like this. It was absolutely, utterly inappropriate and a dumb thing to say – yet still, I had to bite back the smile trying to sneak onto my face. I settled on raising my eyebrows and replying, “You’re one to talk, Carlile.” 

His smile widened into a grin. “I know,” he admitted, raising his hands defensively. “I’m an even bigger idiot.” 

My roommate coughed. “GAAAAAAY,” he said. 

I flipped him off. 

“So, when are you going to leave?” I asked Austin. 

He grinned at me. He’d understood. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll want me to,” he said. 

I shook my head. “And when are you going to show me your Monster?” I asked. 

He let out a short chuckle. “You’ve already seen it, Alan,” he reminded me, and I hesitantly joined his laughter. 

“So tell me, Austin, what’s going to happen when I get out of here?” I continued. 

“We’re going to get rid of Michael’s shit in your apartment, you’re going to get a job and start applying to colleges,” he explained as if it were the simplest thing on earth. 

I wrinkled my nose. 

“But I don’t have any money,” I confessed.

“We’ll figure something out.”


	13. The End and Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So!   
> This is the end!   
> BUT there's a sequel. I don't know how long it'll take me to start working on it, though, cause I have another story going on.   
> anyway, thanks a lot for reading!

The last box. Filled with clinking bottles and the last bit of the Monster. 

Austin gave me a reassuring smile as he picked it up and carried it away, down the stairs and to the dumpster behind the apartment building. I only heard the crashing sound when he threw them into the container. It sounded off the walls like an earthquake, and the ringing in my ears had yet to subside.

It was a horribly clichéd scene. It got worse, however, when a small tear suddenly escaped the corner of my eye. 

The Monster was gone. 

It wasn’t going to come back. 

~

I was gingerly holding the small piece of paper between my two hands. It had been crumpled from being in my pocket for so long and the handwriting was frayed around the edges, but it was still legible. 

_Jack Barakat_ , was scribbled there in a messy scrawl, with a phone number underneath. The digits were slightly faded out, but I had no problem typing them into my phone. When I’d gotten discharged from the hospital, my roommate had told me that I was ‘actually kind of okay’ and that I should call him sometime. 

Picking up my phone, I smiled at the open window in front of me. 

It rang four or five times, then someone picked up. 

“Yeah?” a voice answered. It didn’t sound like Jack at all, though. 

“Is, uh, is Jack around?” I asked quietly. 

“Uhm, and who are you?” the stranger asked. 

“Uh, I’m Alan, we met in the hospital,” I explained reluctantly. 

“Oh. Jack told me about you. Wait a second.” A clicking noise rang through the speaker, followed by a distant yell of “Jacky, phone!” and more clicking and static.

“Idiot!” Jack greeted me, “How are things?” 

“Fine,” I replied, smiling lightly. 

“I mean, how are things with Austin?” he specified. 

I chuckled, looking up to see Austin in his kitchen, trying to make pancakes and failing pathetically in the process. “It’s going to be fine,” I told Jack and myself. 

“Well, do you love him?” Jack asked.

“Like I said,” I replied, smiling to myself, “It’s going to be fine.” 

The End


End file.
